


Arthur Shelby- Love at First Sight

by Skellyagogo



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anger, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Female reader insert, Fighting, Love at First Sight, Mobsters, Revenge, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-22 08:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skellyagogo/pseuds/Skellyagogo
Summary: *Modern day Peaky Blinders AU*Your father receives a call for help from someone battling a common enemy, he sends his daughter knowing she'll deal with the problem at hand and cement a new ally in Europe expanding his empire.  He warns her not to fall in love with Thomas Shelby, but is the man that catches her eye the one she was warned against?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

****Modern Day Peaky Blinders AU inspired by @chellestrash on Tumblr from a character ask session they'd done between exams that were tied to their own modern-day Peaky Blinders Social Media AU series. I LOVE IT!! You should check it out!****

No one noticed her waltz inside the Garrison behind a pack of a few younger Blinders. Hardly an eye glanced up as she ordered a shot she promptly swallowed back and a pint from the bartender. She wasn't exactly hiding her presence nor ready to announce it just yet. The Garrison was loud and rowdy. Men in raucous laughter telling one vulgar joke after another. Women who hung on their arms like trophies giving fake smiles and playing coy. She eyed the closed door of the tiny room next to the bar. They'd be in there her father told her so.

She sipped her pint making her way towards the jukebox, an ancient piece of musical history that made her smile. It was brightly lit and polished as if someone took great care in its appearance. Glancing over all the music it held. Reading albums and song titles that sent her reminiscing of summers past with her sister on the lake. Music loudly wafting out of the house and down to the beach where they bathed in the hot rays of the summer sun. She sighed heavily knowing those days were long gone and could never be again.

"Do you want to avenge your sister Y/n?" Her father asked from behind his desk as he watched her staring out the window at his expansive empire below.

"You know I do," she whispered.

It'd been years since she'd spoken louder than a whisper reserving her anger for the man who took her sister. The man who absconded with her in the night with the promises of riches and all the love she could ever want, only to use and abuse her up until he killed her in a drunken rage.

The moment the news had reached her and her father she dove back into the gym. Training harder and more ruthless than she ever had, she'd become something even his toughest enforcers refused to tangle with. Silent promises made to the picture of her sister that sat on her nightstand. Promises that she'd end his life so her sister could rest in peace.

"Then I need you to go to Birmingham and meet with Thomas Shelby, apparently his enemy is ours." He knew she'd get the job done and cement allies overseas known as the Peaky Blinders.

The thick fog of their signature cologne hit her nose before she heard the sounds of their voices. She knew them all too well, her nose scrunched in disgust and a sneer slid over her painted lips. The pint held high and knocked back in a few swigs if she learned one thing from her father it was how to hold her liquor. She saw it, the perfect song. Ignoring the sign above the jukebox warning it was for Blinder's use only. Her hand dove into her pocket pulling out a few coins and quietly shoved them into the coin slot. Her ears picked up their footsteps closing in on her, even from behind Changretta's men knew her, knew who her father was.

"Your father ain't here to protect you." A deep voice gloated in a hearty laugh. They were all the same, all of Changretta's men blended in one giant stereotype.

"And who says I need my father's protection... from you?" Her laughter was cold as ice, a cold that would send a shiver down the spine of a normal man. She stood tall rolling her shoulders and tossing her head side to side making a cracking sound.

She could hear a silence fall over the bar, chairs sliding across the floor. Bodies that didn't belong to Blinders were scattering and leaving through both exits. She could hear a door creaking open from across the bar and muffled voices inspecting the commotion. Blinders littered all over the bar awaiting orders from the man in charge before they jumped in. The record she'd chosen whirling itself into place inside the jukebox. The bartender pleading with the Shelby's to intervene, but one with an air of authority only chuckled.

"Wait and see if she needs it, stand down," he spoke with a slight buzz, the strike of a match and a heavy puff on his cigarette.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she chided, her back still to the small group of men as she rested her pint glass atop the jukebox.

The goon that stood behind her put his massive hand on her shoulder, but he couldn't do a thing before Patsy Cline's Crazy her sister's favorite song began to wail through the speakers. She turned without warning grabbing onto his arm with her hands and bringing her knee up swiftly shattering his arm at the elbow. He screamed and bellowed as he fell to the floor, his three sidekicks stunned. They weren't expecting her to fight.

The taller of the bunch lunged forward hands out to wrap around her neck only to be met with the sharpened metal spiked heel of her boot in his face jabbing into his eye. His hands raced to his face covering his eyes shrieking in agony.

The other two looked at each thinking they could double team her from each side. She only laughed at the attempt, the thrill of the fight. A flick of her wrist and the dagger slid in her palm from the sheath hidden beneath her jacket sleeve. A quick slash, faster than most eyes could capture and one of the goons fell to the floor hands clutched around his neck. Blood spurting out between his fingers and down his shirt, spilling onto the floor as he fell. The last man stood still afraid to move. He held his hands up in surrender and took a step backward away from her.

"Mercy," he whimpered, the stench of vinegar hung in the air as the urine flowed down his legs and pooled around his feet. She only flashed a sinister grin and took a step closer.

"Did Changretta offer mercy to my sister before he beat her? Did he grant her mercy each time he raped her? Or did mercy cross his mind as he slit her throat and watched her bleed out in front of him?" Her anger seething, coursing through her veins as she twirled the dagger in her fingers.

She tilted her head to the side seeing a group of men and one solitary woman huddled around the door she'd eyed earlier in the night. The Shelby's she assumed though she'd never seen pictures, she could gather who they were by how they held themselves. One, in particular, caught her eye. Tall, lanky build, a scrappy look to him like a boxer. Long dark locks framed his face already adorned with a beard. Her tongue wet her bottom lip staring at the man she assumed was Thomas. Forever a sucker for a stunning beard on a man. The last words her father spoke as she boarded the plane running amuck in her head.

'Don't fall in love with Thomas Shelby,' he spoke sternly. 'An alliance is one thing, bringing two families together in a fucking harmonious working atmosphere is a nightmare.'

She allowed herself to become distracted by the gorgeously bearded Shelby across the bar and the goon took his opportunity. He landed a punch square on her nose. Blinding pain and flashes of white filled her eyes. A savage growl fled her lips and filled the room. A commotion broke out amongst the Shelby's and a few hurriedly crossed the room taking ahold of the last Changretta minion dragging him out back behind the bar.

She could hear the rabid beating he was getting and grinned. Lightheaded she found herself falling backward, hardly the best way to introduce herself to the Shelby's then again the slight embarrassment from her landing on her rump could be forgiven after proving herself, but the fall to the floor never happened. Her backside never met the cold hard wooden floor. Her eyes still trying to adjust, everything was still a blur. She felt arms steady her and a soft but gruff voice as she held onto his arms.

"Easy there Love," he lifted her carefully depositing her on the nearest chair. A woman's perfume hung in the air next to her and a cool wet cloth held gingerly over her nose. "Jus' lean your head back a bit, there ya go Love. Thanks, Pol."

He pulled a chair beside her watching, waiting for her sight to clear as he held the cloth against her nose to stem the bleeding. He'd seen a lot of fights in his time, but none like one she'd just shown the family. Beyond impressed and a little turned on he hated to admit. It'd been a year since his divorce from Linda, the harpy that wouldn't leave him be, always wanting more money. He hadn't so much as looked at another woman in all that time. Too afraid to see yet another bloodsucking harpy in their faces, but there was something about this one.

There in front of him sat a woman with a set of stunningly haunting eyes, even that smile when she sneered at Changretta's men was enough to make his heart flutter. A rapid beat that picked up its pace the longer she had looked at him. The unassuming way she moved, fluid and yet so fiercely. There wasn't any fear in her face, only stone-cold determination that he understood.

"Y/n Capone, Mr. Shelby," she held out her hand to him, a faint smile hidden behind the bar towel as she tried to sit up straight. Soft, strong and like home her hand felt in his. He felt a jolt, a tiny shock that sprinted up and down his spine making him smile.

"Arthur," he chuckled. "No need to be so formal like Love." He watched baffled as her eyes grew big.

"Huh, I was told the attractive one would be Thomas," a softly embarrassed laugh fled her mouth.

"Oi! She just called Arthur hot!" A blonde yelled out and doubled over in deep laughter.

"Shut your trap John," Pol snickered and turned toward Y/n and Arthur glancing between the two of them. A knowing smile clung heavy on her lips as she walked to the bar for a drink whispering to Michael.

"I think he hit your head jus' a bit harder than I thought Love," Arthur chuckled with a little blush. He wasn't sure what to think about that and ran his fingers through his hair pulling it out of his face.

"My father warned me not to fall in love with Thomas Shelby, he never said anything about the other Shelby's." She gave Arthur a wink and a faint laugh before standing up. She watched the rest of the Blinders removing the mess she'd made of Changretta's men.

Her eyes scanning the room and found what she was looking for, a mirror hung near the jukebox. Arthur watched her crossing the room, his head tilting to the side entranced by the sway of her hips. The side to side sashay as they moved. He swallowed hard, a large gulp of air feeling the effect she had over him in such a short time. The need to know more about her, to hear that laugh again, see that smile the way it sat upon her face. He wanted to see that glint in her eye again when she realized he wasn't Tommy. Arthur was beyond smitten and not once in his lifetime had a woman made him feel this way.

Y/n stood examining her face in the mirror, eyes scrunched annoyed at the damage done. It wasn't the first time her nose had been broken and probably not the last. A few deep breaths to psych herself up for the pain. Her hands steady on either side of her nose, fingers poised ready to push it back into place. A sickening crunch and a guttural moan echoed out in the bar causing all to stand still and watch in admiration. Arthur was up and behind her, hands poised on her back to steady her incase she fell from the sharpness of the pain. He knew all too well what she'd just done had felt like.

"Alright Love?" He grinned seeing her smiling in the mirror, the slight hue of pink on her cheeks as she watched him in the mirror.

"Just peachy. Hell of a way to announce my arrival huh?" That melodic laughter of hers filled his ears, his chest tightening as his heartbeat a mile a minute.

"No better way in my book," he chuckled watching the way she tucked her hair behind her ear. "Say, you uh... you wanna join me for a drink?" Arthur hadn't felt the kind of nerves coursing through him in ages.

"Are you asking me on a date?" Her bottom lip sucked in her lip watching the nervousness in his eyes.

"Well, that all depends on what you say really. If it's a no then it's jus' a business meetin', if it's a yes then I guess we'll see where the night takes us." It wasn't often that Arthur felt that cockiness, that suave swagger like his other brothers had, but looking at her made it come out and swinging.

"I'd love to Arthur," she grinned ducking her head down at a failed attempt to hide the blush that was on full display.

Arthur led her with his hand on her back to a booth across the bar, stepping away only long enough to grab two glasses and a bottle of scotch from behind the bar. Even his walk seemed more confident than it had been in some time. He slid in the booth across from pouring their drinks and smiled. The ease at which the conversation came took him by surprise, but he'd sit there across from her for as long as she wanted.

"Do you believe in love at first sight Tommy?" Pol asked grinning as he sat beside her at the bar watching the exchange between Y/n and Arthur.

"Not in the slightest," he scoffed through a tiny smile curled at the corner of his mouth seeing what Pol was angling at. He hadn't seen Arthur that relaxed and at ease, or comfortable in too many years to remember.

"Well," she inhaled a deep drag of her cigarette with a smug smile. "You're watching it playing out live right in front of our very eyes."

"I see an expansion in our family's future," Tommy grinned.


	2. Scars

There were only Blinders left in the Garrison after Y/n's little show. Drinks flowed as more and more Blinders flooded inside the Garrison to see the woman from America come to aid in their fight against the Italians. The story told over and over each time a new body filled a seat. Each time she'd become more heinous and to be feared in the telling of it. A barrage of faces young and old came to the booth occupied by her and Arthur wanting to shake her hand, and sing praise. Arthur found himself annoyed by the intrusions, but at the same time in utter awe of her.

The fight replaying in his mind as she spoke of other things. He watched her lips move, the sound of her voice filled his ears but he thought of how her body moved and reacted, the calmness in her face, the fire in her eyes as she fought. He'd felt the connection the first time they locked eyes mid-fight. The sly grin on her curved lips, the glint of trouble in her eyes. The kind of trouble that instantly drove wild thoughts in his mind. The rush of blood flow that sent a hardened throbbing twitching between his legs. He wanted nothing more than to know what she'd sound like calling out his name in pleasure. 

His imagination running unbridled inside his mind feeling her beneath him. How she'd feel writhing under him, how she'd taste as his tongue worked her over. Calloused hands perusing her smoothed skin, mapping every inch. A small part of him felt dirty, hated himself for thinking such things. He'd just met her and here he was wanting to fuck her senseless. Too so, but in an unexplained way it all felt right somehow. Was this fate?

"Arthur?" Y/n waved a hand in front of his face. "You there handsome?" Arthur shook his head out of his daze. Brown locks fluttering around his face as he coughed embarrassedly seeing the smirk on her mouth. It was like she knew what he was thinking, guilt crept through him.

"Uh, yeah, sorry Love," he chuckled softly seeing her grin. Filling his glass again and taking a large sip thinking the alcohol could stop his thoughts, but he knew it was a lie.

"You were trying to picture me naked, weren't you?" Y/n smiled joking, but the bluntness and truthfulness of it made Arthur spit out his drink.

Scotch sprayed all over the table and the floor beside him. Y/n watched as Arthurs's cheeks reddened a deeper shade each second she watched him. He let his head dip forward, hair acting as a cover to his embarrassment. They could both feel the eyes of the entire bar on them now, scrutinizing their every move. The bartender tossed Arthur a cloth from across the room. He wiped up the table in silence, though the muffled comments from around the room didn't escape either of them.

"Holy shit!" Y/n laughed loudly, trying to stifle the fit of laughter behind her hand. "I was only kidding, but you were! Fuck!" She leaned back in the booth smiling at Arthur. 

"Maybe later if you ask nicely Love," he quipped back with a bit of alcohol-infused confidence. He flashed her a wink that set her cheeks aflame and let out another laugh.

He'd spent too long feeling exhausted with his life. Too tired to repress and hide his sadness and anger at the world, but this night spent across from her spent memorizing her features he felt none of that. He wanted to drown himself in the very fabric of her being because for the first time he could remember, Y/n somehow made him feel alive.

"Right, well on that note, I'm going to the Lil girl's room to let you uh..." she glanced around the bar seeing all the curious eyes still watching them. "To let you fill your brothers in on what the brash American said to make the Great Arthur Shelby blush."

Y/n had barely turned the corner down the hall towards the bathroom before Tommy, Pol, John, Micheal, and Ada infiltrated the booth surrounding a rather stunned and speechless Arthur. His eyes were still watching down the hallway where she'd been with a lovesick smile upon his face.

"Arthur," Tommy inhaled a drag on his cigarette, but Arthur didn't respond. A sly smile crossed his face seeing his older brother in such a state. 

"What the fuck she say to make you spit out perfectly good booze?" John poked Arthur in his shoulder with a snicker. He sat still swirling his glass in his hands watching down the hall in a few moments of awkward silence until John kicked Arthur's foot.

"Naked," Arthur mumbled quietly causing the others to break out in laughter.

"Naked?" Tommy questioned with an arched eye, Arthur shook himself from her hold on him. "Arthur, you've seen plenty of women naked why would a Capone be any different?" 

"Nothing, I said the word nothing," he spoke louder slamming back the contents on his glass.

"Right then," Tommy smiled smugly, "You think you can handle getting Y/n to my house in one piece to discuss her father's conditions for his assistance?"

"Yeah," he coughed again seeing Y/n come down the hall, kicking John in retribution.

"Do I need to add wearing a condom to that request as well?" Tommy took a long drag on his cigarette earning a glare from Arthur. Tommy only responded in low laughter. 

Tommy moved out of the side Y/n had occupied allowing her to sit again. The faint flush on her cheeks not unnoticed by the others. Even through the swelling from her broken nose Arthur found her stunning. To the others she badass who'd proved herself useful. She reached across the table, the back of her hand brushing against Arthur's while reaching for the bottle of scotch. Y/n gave a sweet but troublesome tiny curled smirk filling Arthur's glass, ignoring John's outreached glass and emptied the rest of the bottle in her own. 

Polly could see the realness in Arthur's expressions, the subtle nervousness in his hands. A tiny shake that one would miss unless looking directly at them, though Tommy never missed a thing. He seemed like himself again, the Arthur they all knew growing up and long before the war. There was a newfound calmness in him, anger his constant companion seemed to have abandoned him. A glow and flickering spark in his eyes that was aimed at her, the way his smile curled up at the side.

"You look as if you've seen something that's caught your eye, my dear," Polly asked standing beside the booth.

Y/n only grinned and ducked her head downward briefly feeling the eyes of Polly, Arthur, Ada, Micheal, John and Tommy examining her intensely. She let out a quiet sigh locking eyes with Arthur. It was hard to believe the feeling had hit her so fast, so quickly, but it was like he'd been calling out to her in her dreams for years. Sleepless nights chasing a voice that called her name, mornings spent lying in bed mind running amuck in delirium hoping it was more than a dream. She felt the pull the moment their eyes locked early that night, a deep longing she'd never felt in all her years.

"I chose the one who looked at me and made me feel like I exist in the here and now and not amongst the stars and dreams," she smiled softly not taking her eyes off Arthur answering Polly.

"A poet, and a fighter, how interesting. Sounds like someone else," she grinned in response and walked back towards the bar. 

None of them failed to see the way Arthur smiled at her now, how his eyes never left her. He took a sip of scotch and held the glass in his hand moving what was left in a tornado of swirls. All except Arthur exchanged knowing smiles, slowly walking away back towards the bar with Pol. The old Arthur slowly emerging before their very eyes. The Arthur long before Linda had ground him into the ground and made him of nothingness. Arthur Shelby long before the war and devastation. The man who sat for hours on end staring up at the stars who found it easier to speak through the written word than by mouth.

"Every star," he whispered, eyes locked on hers with tiny a smile, "is a reminder of how tiny we are and how beautiful it is that we exist in this moment together." His gruff voice and the heaviness of his accent made every word sound as if it were dipped in honey, sticky sweet and only meant for her.

**********

Arthur had been studying her as she straddled his body as he lay on her bed. She had stood reluctantly to leave for the night, head back to her hotel room; he offered to walk her there. What was an innocent request on her part for him to stay the night, both had gotten rather tipsy at the Garrison. Her offer of him to stay so at least she could rest without worry that something had happened to him. She barely spoke a word since they entered her hotel room. Her silence felt like it was its own conversation, deep and meaningful, held the answers to life itself in those silent glances.

Y/n paid no attention to modesty, left nothing to the imagination letting her clothes fall where they may on the floor. Arthur still a man, after all, he couldn't help but look. Follow her curves in awe, not expecting anything to happen though in the back of his mind he wouldn't have been opposed to it. He watched her disappear into the bathroom, the blinding light illuminating scars speckled across her flesh. Bullet holes and the marks of stab wounds, he knew the looks of them all too well. The thought of someone hurting her sending a growling fury inside him. 

He was bemused as she reappeared in a tank top and flannel shorts. The way she bent over pulling water out of the mini-fridge and saunter to the bed. Tossing back the covers and flashing him a grin as she patted the spot beside her. Heaven all mighty he fought back the urge to race across the room. It'd been over a year since he'd touched a woman and he wouldn't deny he wanted her.

"I'll take the couch," Arthur mumbled gruffly. No good could come from laying close to her so late at night. 

"Nonsense, that couch is nothing more than cardboard and foam, you'll wake up with a stiff back or worse. We're adults, I'm sure we can handle sharing a bed without ravaging each other... unless you want to," she smirked a light giggle. 

He smiled and shook his head, unable to fathom how this woman could affect him so, get him to do things with just a look. An amused grin crossed his mouth seeing the way she watched him. A bashful giddy smile as she sipped from her water. Her free hand covering her eyes though he didn't miss the way her fingers parted. Off came his jacket flung over a chair nearest the bed. Stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers, unabashed he slid in between the sheets beside her. 

The lights were dimmed inside the room, the only light from the full moon high above them outside. Muted sounds of the city below and the soft purr of her breathing filled the silence. He could make out her form beside him as she lay on her side. He hadn't wanted to sleep, his mind wandering, wondering what could it hurt to wrap an arm around her, pull her tight and hold her close. Somehow she was the calmness in a raging sea and he wanted to keep her near, but the sweet slowed sounds that left her mouth beside him in that darkened room lulled him to sleep like never before.

Bodies falling all around him and not a bullet left in his gun. Screams and cries for help and nothing to aid him but the knife clipped to his belt. Ammo was spent and long gone, none found amongst the fallen bodies. He was outnumbered and backed into a wall. Arthur growled and taunted them, if this was how he was to die then he wanted it on his terms. Arms swinging and his knife hitting everything in his path. The same nightmare repeating over and over from his last battle in the war.

Y/n awoke to his muffled cries, the twitching of his limbs turned into violent thrashing. She called his name, shook his shoulder but nothing woke him from the night terror. Helplessly she watched the pain washed over his face. The torment weighing heavy on him. She knew it was a gamble and possibly result in injury but she had to try. Pinning his arms with her hands as she straddled his thighs to still his movement. 

"Arthur," not a hint of worry in her voice. "Arthur Shelby wake up. You're safe, I promise." She sat still as stone in her position repeating the same words until he woke.

Sweat beading off his forehead, scanning every bit of the room in a daze. Y/n could feel the rigidness of anger in his body. For the briefest of moments, she thought he may fight back awaking in unfamiliar surroundings. His eyes focused on her and she lost herself in those two raging oceans staring up at her. Letting his arms go, she cradled his neck with her hands. Thumbs sweeping over his freckled cheeks. She allowed herself to move, leaning down resting her forehead to his. 

"You're not in the war anymore Arthur, you're home in Birmingham," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," his hands trailing up her arms, eyes trying to see if he'd done any damage. 

"Don't be," she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and sat up with a sweet smile. 

Y/n couldn't help but focus on the faint silver line around Arthur's neck in the dim light of the room. It almost glinted and sparkled in the moonlight shining in from the window. Her fingers caressed and ghosted over the line, a familiar mark she knew all too well. Scars of desperation, of thinking there's no other way, the last escape. He couldn't look at her feeling her fingers on his scars and turned his head away. 

He didn't want to be reminded of the time he'd given up when everything had gone to shit and he felt like there was no way out. He felt as if none of his brothers could understand, that war, those battles didn't seem to affect them the way they had him. He drank and fought, lashing out at anything in his way. Eventually turning to drugs, the only thing that numbed the pain.

Arthur was the oldest, he was supposed to be in charge, the protector. Supposed to lead the family into success and prosperity, but he didn't want any of it. Too many nightmares from the war and PTSD made him a ticking time bomb. That aggression coming out at the most inopportune moments. Too many fights, too many bodies dumped in the river. 

Arthur just wanted peace, wanted to know calm, to slow down and take a breath without having to look over his shoulder, but it never came. Out of one war for his country and into another for his family. He remembered the night of the scars on his neck. Remembered shoving the gun in his mouth trying to find the courage to pull the trigger but it never came. Weeping like a child, so full of emotions he'd never dealt with from the War overwhelming him. Self-hatred filling him to the brim when he spied the rope. He tied the noose and tossed the rope over a high beam, stood himself on a chair and stepped off.

The rope tightened, strangling him. Ragged breath escaped his lungs, eyes bulging, arms limp at his sides. He thought it was the end, that the pain would all be over, yet it never came. The rope snapped, he'd fallen landing hard on his knees. Coughing and gasping for breath flooding with anger that he couldn't even do that right. Arthur could hear an old song playing in the distance down the road. A song long before his time wafting on the breeze filling his ears. Santo & Johnny's 'Sleep Walk'. He didn't know why or how but the anger faded. Slowly flooding out of his body replaced with a strange chilling warmth. 

He was ashamed of the scars, of what he tried to do, the weak way out he tried to take. All of his brothers had eventually found out, read him the riot act and more, but it was soon ignored. The blackspot of Arthur's existence it became, the thing they all knew but never spoke of. Y/n's touch, the soft feel of her fingertips grazing over them, he didn't want to see the sadness in her eyes, the pity. He couldn't bear a look of pity, not from her. 

She felt like his salvation, like a spring storm readying to rain down upon him and wash away his sins and leave him clean and anew. He stared across the room at a horrid abstract painting on the wall for how long he didn't know. It was her humming that snapped him out of his daze. The familiar tune from years ago made his head whip towards her so quickly she stopped and looked afraid for the first time. He wasn't sure what to say to, how to explain. 

"Why... why were you humming that song, Love?" Curiosity weighing heavily on him. Coincidences weren't something his family took lightly, old Gypsy wives' tales still ran strong even in these modern times.

"It reminds me of that night," she trailed off looking out the window. Her hands left his face and pooled on his chest in a heap. 

He noticed her eyes glistening, holding back the flow that filled her eyes. Wanting to give her comfort he reached out for her hand, his thumb grazed over a jagged bumpy spot on her wrist and he saw it. The same silvery mark of scars on her wrist, no not only on one but both as he held one in each hand. Y/n had searched for her way out as he had. He watched her shoulders slouch and the deep exhale. A troubling ill-feeling washed through him, she didn't deserve to feel that way, to have taken that road.   
He sat up leaning against the headboard pulling her with him. She didn't put up a fuss only gave a tiny weak smile. Holding each wrist tenderly he brought them to his lips. Kissing the length of each jagged line, his scruffy facial hair tickling her, making her laugh. So much in common, so much hidden beneath the surface, but even through all that pain, all the battles to keep their heads above water, now of all times they both breathed a sigh of relief. 

She let herself melt into Arthur, her body molding around his feeling his arms encase themselves around her. He breathed a heavy sigh feeling her squeeze him tight. There was more to all of this he knew, something deeper, some grand plan why it was her that was here with him at this moment. 

"Get some sleep Love, we've got a family meetin' in the mornin'," he muttered sleepily kissing the top of her head. Whatever this was, he liked it, craved it and was willing to do whatever he had to to keep it.


	3. Chapter 3

John Shelby was waiting by the car with a grin on his face and a cigarette between his lips. He was poised to comment seeing Y/n and Arthur both walking out of the hotel. John had previously swung by Arthur's place only to find it empty. A text message from Arthur sent John to the hotel amused and ready to give his older brother shit for his blatantly obvious promiscuous activities the night before. John took a drag from his smoke eyeing the way Arthur walked beside but a little in front of Y/n. A small protective action he'd never seen Arthur make when he was with Linda. 

"Don't say a word," Arthur's still sleepy and gruff voice growled at John.

"Mornin' Y/n, I trust you slept well," John directed his smirk towards Y/n as he opened the back door for her.

Y/n pursed her lips in a thin line attempting to hide her smirk, but John was mischievous and knew the look in her eyes. He glanced at Y/n in a fresh set of clothes, nothing fancy or uppity in her jeans and leather jacket, a glimpse of t-shirt beneath that read, 'Keep staring, I like watching your lips move'. John smirked in amusement at her shirt and back towards Arthur.

"I slept better than any woman ever has with you John-boy," her snarky response while climbing into the back of the car wiped that smirk off John's face making Arthur chuckle as he sat beside her.

Everyone was sat around a large wooden table inside Tommy's sprawling mansion in the country. Crystal glasses full of alcohol sat in front of every member of the family, smoke billowing upward toward the ceiling. A heavy scent of tobacco clung to the air. They were all there with watchful eyes glancing at Y/n and Arthur in his clothes from the night before. None made any comments about it, but the way they smiled said enough. 

"Down to the matter at hand," Tommy spoke with a soft authority. "What exactly is your father wanting in return for his assistance?"

"Ideally, he wants his rum and whiskey sold in all your establishments with 60% of the profits from what is sold, but I'm sure I could get him lower." Y/n's attention was aimed at Arthur as she spoke. Her eyes glancing over all the tiny freckles on his face. It wasn't until John started to snicker that her attention went down the table towards Tommy with his raised brow and a subtle grin. "Frankly, he's not the one over here risking anything at all, I am."

"S' bit steep in my opinion, it's bad enough we're competing with Alfie on the liqueur front with his rum now we've got another Italian wanting to muscle in." Michael wore a stern expression, always so business-minded. 

"I agree," Y/n sighed reaching for her water glass instead of the amber-colored whiskey that was calling out to her. "I'll kill Changretta for free, but my father will want something for 'my time'."

"Pretty sure Arthur would qualify as payment," John muttered making Finn laugh beside him. 

"Oi," Polly smacked John on the back of his head. He groaned out in annoyance.

"I'll negotiate with my father, he'll see reason. I'm his only child left, he won't risk losing me too." 

Such an open statement Y/n made in front of a group of strangers. The willingness to speak of personal matters. It left a few curious, Y/n wasn't anything like they were expecting, not from the offspring of one of the most feared mobsters in America. It was almost too cliche, a riddle wrapped in an enigma. She wasn't anything like she appeared or sounded like. There was a treasure trove of mystery in her and none more than Arthur wanted to know what lay behind that smile. 

The meeting adjourned, shuffling chairs on the wood floor. Random conversations amongst the family already ignored by Arthur and Y/n. He tossed back the last of his whiskey and grinned watching her appreciating Tommy's art collection hanging on the walls. The way she held tilted gaining a different perspective on colors and brush strokes. He studied how her fingers delicately traced over the curves and edges of the statues. She wandered quietly into the adjoining room full of bookshelves and cushy leather chairs. Her eyes widely taking in the massive hoard of leather-bound books crammed into the shelves. She was something alright, the casual at ease stride in her walk.

It was a complete 180 from the night before in the Garrison. No longer the wild cat taking out her frustrations on Changretta's men. If he didn't know any better he would have mistaken her for some college co-ed. The fighting stance and rough and tumble attitude long gone replaced with a delicate smile and a relaxed body. Her eyes scanning the ancient books with awed reverence. A dreamy look in her eye scanning through the pages of a book.

He was hooked and not much could have changed that. Arthur wanted nothing more right now than to get her somewhere quiet and sketch out her features on paper. Like Y/n, Arthur had his own secrets. Passions that ran deep since childhood, hobbies that his brothers made fun of him for. It was widely known that Arthur wasn't known for his vocal linguistics skills, but on paper, his fingers could express what his mouth couldn't. Drawing and sketches so lifelike, Pol tried to nurture that talent, but the Shelby's weren't having it. 

The written word filled in where is mouth escaped him. Often sounding as if a whole other person had written them. Poetry so beautiful it left Ada wishing for a man with a heart as tender as Arthur, but the other Shelby boys teased him mercilessly over it growing up. They were supposed to be men, hardened and rough, ready to fight, lie, cheat and steal, not waning romantically on paper. Just watching Y/n he could feel the prose rambling about in his head. 

"How about a tour through the grounds Love?" Arthur managed to saddle up beside her silently in time to see her smile. "The gardens are lovely this time of year or maybe even a trot down to the stables, I hear Tommy go his new racehorses in." 

"Why does it sound like there's an ulterior motive in your voice? Was keeping me trapped against your chest all night not enough?" her laughter was light and airy.

"S' possible or maybe I'm just tryna save you from a hundred questions from Pol and Ada," he glanced behind him to see the very women he spoke of standing side by side watching Y/n with interest in a hushed chat of their own.

"By all means then, lead the way," Y/n tucking her arm around Arthur's.  
They could hear the murmured commotion behind them, the soft laughter. Neither cared, though Arthur's cheek only slightly betrayed him with their rosy hue. They were already lost in hushed conversation walking through the library and into the entryway. 

Aberama Gold and his son Bonnie stood off to the side of foyer waiting their time for a meeting with Tommy. Aberama stood tall, quickly becoming surprised and wide-eyed seeing Y/n. She'd yet to even see them as they blended into the room. It wasn't until Aberama spoke, hearing his voice that made her stop abruptly.

"Bună, prințesă dispărută," (Hello missing princess) The older Gold spoke in a raspy yet honeyed voice in Romanian. 

Thomas Shelby had already been moving towards the foyer to speak with Aberama and stopped short himself watching the frozen scene before him. He felt the presence of his other family around curious themselves. They all knew that Gold was a savage hitman who didn't like to play by the rules. He'd been ruthless solving problems and had no qualms hurting a woman if the situation called for it. The Shelby's and Pol watched in bated breath as Y/n dropped her hold on Arthur's arm and strode towards Aberama. She was growling much like the night before as she fought Changretta's men as she got in Gold's face. Bonnie squinted his eyes but stepped away from his father. 

"Don't call me that!" Y/n poked her index finger in his chest causing his eyes to briefly glanced down at it with a sly smile on his face. "That bullshit is why she left in the first place!"

Silence rang in the room as anxious eyes watched Gold for the first time since he'd come into Shelby's lives take a step backward in retreat. There was something about the way he smiled at Y/n, secretive and yet somehow awed. The last thing anyone expected was for him to formally bow to her, nudging Bonnie to follow his example.

"My apologies Charani," Gold spoke looking towards the tiled floor. 

Thomas and the rest stood utterly baffled watching Y/n throw her arms up in the air like a petulant teenager groaning annoyed. All cool and calm fled her in droves. She had a look in her eyes, a vengeful glint of frustration and a hint of rage. Arthur could see the urge to fight in her, the roll of her shoulders, but instead, she stormed off outside and across the sprawling lawn into the woods. Arthur was in a bit of shock and awe, impressed she could walk away without throwing a punch, but the way Gold spoke to her as if he knew her.

"Best not speak to her again, yeah?" Arthur glared at Gold before jogging out the door after Y/n.

It took him longer to find her than he would have liked, he prided himself on finding the unfindable, but she covered her tracks quite well. She was sat along the bank of the small river that ran through Thomas' land. He held back admiring her from afar. The rapid thumping in his chest sent anxiety running through him. It still couldn't understand why this pull towards her felt so right. 

Y/n sat with her legs out in front, knees up to her chest, her boots and jacket laying in the grass beside her. Barefeet, toes scrunched up in the tall grass. The cool English weather didn't have the slightest effect on her. Without much effort, she swung her arm out to the side and skipped a stone across the water. It clattered onto the rocky shore on the other side of the river.

"Thas a good toss Love. Who taught you to throw like that?" Arthur found himself speaking warmer to her than anyone else in his life. He smiled hearing her laughter the closer he stepped towards her.

"My brother." Even though she smiled he heard the sadness in her voice. 

"I didn't want to intrude on you, I jus wanted to make sure you were alright." He stood beside her unsure whether or not he should sit, but she answered for him giving a playful tug on his pant leg pulling him down beside her. He sifted through the rocks finding flat stones to skip.

"I'm sure you're wondering how I know Aberama Gold," she didn't look at Arthur only straight ahead at the water tossing another rock with her other hand due to the proximity of Arthur. 

"I wasn't going to press the matter actually, seems like you didn't want to talk about it by how fast you bolted out the door." He tossed a stone of his own but it sank. The loud splash and large pattern in the water where it landed made her chuckle. 

"It's a rather long story best rambled with whiskey so I can forget it as quickly as I tell it." Her smile was false, a sour sweetness in the curve of her lips. Bad memories and fear of that knowledge used against her. 

"I ain't going anywhere," he smiled childishly bumping into her shoulder. He let out a quiet sigh as she rested her head against his arm.

They stayed that way in silence watching the water rushing by. There were no warring factions, no family qualms, no troublesome questions, and bothersome people, just Arthur and Y/n. Arthur was getting antsy though, it'd been too long since his last fix. He'd been able to handle without it last night, but his skin felt like it was starting to crawl. Surely she wouldn't mind, she had no problem taking out grown men. No issue with blood and gore, she set her broken nose. There was no way she'd be offended or put off if he did a few lines. 

He pulled away from her and reached into his jacket pocket for his little glass vial. The white power inside calling out to him like a sirens song. Just seeing it, holding it in his hand was making him salivate. He needed it, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go without it. Arthur opened the vial and set a small pile on the backside of his hand. Inches from his face, so close to snorting that goodness subsiding his hunger for it until Y/n finally spoke.

"Please don't, I know I have no right to ask you that," her head still facing the water, but her eyes glanced toward him. She didn't sound disappointed or disgusted by it only numb.

"I'm sor," he started to speak but she interrupted laying her palm on his knee.

"Don't apologize, Arthur, I have no right to tell you what to do just please, not in front of me. That's how I lost my brother." He glimpsed the softness at her words, the flood of memories in her eyes. That was all it took for him to close the vial and dust the coke off his hand into the grass.

"You... you said back in the house that you were only child left. How did..." he wasn't sure how to word his sentence, but something in him broke seeing the fall in her shoulders.

"My brother wanted to be a professional baseball player. He played all through high school and into college, even had scouts looking at him, but my father wanted him to take over the business. Markus didn't want any of it, didn't want to run the guns, or the booze didn't want the dark side of our father's life to be his. He fought against dad in the only way he thought would hurt him. He quit school, turned to drugs. He was so deep in, so hooked he couldn't get enough. Dad chased off all his dealers, but Markus found new ones. He ended up dying of an overdose. Not long after that Cecilia ran off with Changretta. I was the weak one, the one dad never wanted to be involved in any of this but now... I don't have much of a choice."

"There's always another choice Love," Arthur tossed the vial in the water's depths hearing his demons screaming at him. 

He did the unthinkable setting himself on a different path, he'd have to find another way to deal with his pain. Another way to cope with the effects of the war, and all that came after. Without another word he pulled her into his lap snaking his arms around her, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. He was still struggling to understand the need to protect her, but his fingers were crossed that she appeared in his life for more than just solving his family's Changretta problem.


	4. Chapter 4

"There's been too much activity with Changretta's men, I'm not saying you can't handle yourself Y/n, but I'd feel more at ease knowing you were staying somewhere else than that hotel. It's too easy to pay someone off to look the other way." Pol had taken a deep liking to her in the week she'd been in town.

"I won't argue that," Y/n laughed glancing down at her phone. She'd hacked into the CCTV feeds throughout the city tracking Changretta's movements, getting a feel for his routine.

"You could stay with me," Ada smiled from across the desk in the betting shop. John, Finn and a few of the other boys had been listening in to their conversation intently.

"You have children Ada, I won't bring that sort of trouble anywhere near your kids." Y/n shook her head frowning. "Changretta is a man with no moral compass, he'll tear through anything to get his way."

"You could always stay with Arthur," John added his two cents into the conversation with a shit-eating grin.

"I could also stay in the local whore house with you John-boy, but I'd hate to see your face when the women find me more appealing than you," Y/n snipped back smirking at John. 

"Y/n will stay with me," Tommy's cool calm voice rolled in from behind. Y/n turned swiftly to see him standing in the doorway, a cigarette between his lips and Arthur standing beside him with a curious look.

"Right well then, hope your internet access is good because I'll be sucking up the bandwidth tracking Changretta's movements and his routine further." Tommy only nodded his head and walked away, Arthur in tow with an odd look on his face.

**********

Arthur paced inside his office in the betting house, Tommy seated in front of his desk pulling out another cigarette. Tommy could feel the tension oozing off Arthur, the rigid way he held himself. The angry jittery look in his eyes. Arthur was sweaty and buzzing with emotions. His facial expressions changing more often than Ada's hairstyles. One moment he was pacing with a furious look upon his face, the next he was staring out his office window trying to hide the muffled cry stuck in his throat. 

"Arthur, what in the hell is going on with you? Have you gone off the bloody deep-end again?" Tommy kept his calm, asking in his usual low monotone voice.

"My skins bloody crawling, I'm in a mood to punch some poor sod his ruddy throat," Arthur growled watching the people pass by on the street outside.

"Craving Y/n that badly are you?" Tommy's laugh was low and harmless but it set Arthur off turning on Tommy.

"DON'T!" He pointed a finger in Tommy's face. "This ain't nothin' to do with what I have or have not done with her." Arthur started visibly shaking, hands trembling as he sat behind his desk. Too shaky to light his cigarette, Tommy leaned across lighter in hand.

"What's happened Arthur?" The concern hardly noticeable on Tommy's face, but it was enough for Arthur to see.

"I've got the shakes right, been days since I've last done a line. Bloody withdrawal is the worst thing I've gone through since the war." Arthur couldn't sit still, his legs bouncy up and down, ashes fell from his smoke landing on his pant leg.

"You were using again!?" The frustration in Tommy's voice as it raised glaring at Arthur. 

"Keyword Tommy, was," Arthur squashed his cigarette in the ashtray and sighed. "Something about the way she looked at me right, talking bout her... jus the way she was sittin there and I chucked it in the river. Haven't touched a thing but alcohol in days. I'm up, I'm down, I'm sideways. I wanna scream, and cry. I wanna fight or curl up in heap on my bed, but that all stops when I'm near her Tommy. I can't explain it." 

"I think you should stay at my place then, a little fresh air will do you some good." With that, Tommy took his leave.

**********

It'd been a whole week since Y/n had settled into Tommy's sprawling mansion. Seven days of miserable cold and rainy weather. Seven whole days tracking Changretta's movements, tracking the routines of his top men and pinpointing the weaknesses. Y/n had taken over the bedroom next to the one Tommy had lent her turning it into a media hub. Computer screens and hardware set up all over the room. She was good at what she did, all eyes on Changretta.   
She watched the screens, followed their movements noting everything. Each place they ate at, the stores they frequented. The businesses they tried to take over. Which women and the occasional man that Changretta's forces were spending their off-hours with. She went old school mapping each henchman with pictures and notes. Boards filled the walls covered in pictures and handwritten notes for each person. Yarn lines connected the dots between who was fucking who, the constant places that were frequented, etc. 

Changretta was a little harder to map out. His routines were sporadic and sometimes chaotic, but even chaos has a pattern at some point. It was becoming maddening for Y/n, she'd been hoping for something, any weakness in his armor to hit. It wasn't until that very moment staring sleepily at the screen sipping her umpteenth cup of coffee that she noticed Changretta leaving a restaurant with a familiar face. The way Changretta smiled and dotted on them. Y/n grinned mischievously, that was enough, it was the in.

Glancing out the window in triumph she noticed that the sky was finally clear. The perpetual English rain had subsided allowing the stars to poke out. Bright shiny dots littered the blackness above. It'd been so long since she'd seen the stars. She could never glimpse them in Chicago. She bundled herself in a heavy wool sweater she found in the wardrobe of her room and headed outdoors. 

***********

The maids were in a frenzy running around the mansion in a frantic search. Each morning Y/n had asked to be awoken with some strong coffee so she could skim through the video footage from the night before, but she was nowhere to be found. The search had gotten so loud that it had woken Tommy. Stumbling annoyed out of his room bumping into one of his staff.

"So sorry Mr. Shelby," the youngest of his staff Marta stepped back nervously playing with her hands, avoiding his gaze.

"It's fine Marta, but what in the hell is going on?" He rubbed his eyes sighing.

"I went to bring Y/n her coffee and she's not in her room, not in the room next to hers either. Her bed wasn't slept in and we can't find her anywhere in the house." Marta was frantic and afraid of Tommy's well-known anger.

"Have you tried knocking on Arthur's door? Perhaps she slept there." Tommy didn't mean to sound cheeky, but it was a possibility. Just as Marta was about to ask he could hear Arthur bellowing across the mansion.

"What do you mean she's not in her room!? WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?" 

Arthur was frantic, his hurried footsteps echoing through the hallways. Wide awake trying to pull his jeans on while jogging, cell phone in hand calling all Blinders in for a search. It was the first time that Tommy could remember that Arthur showed such a take-charge attitude. He ordered Tommy's staff to search every nook and cranny in the house again, and then start in the gardens. If he hadn't been so tired Tommy would have smiled proudly at his brother.

"All of Birmingham and surrounding areas you understand me! She likes to run when she's frustrated so check every trail and she's been living off of coffee search each coffee shop, cart, stall whatever. Use your bloody eyes and look. Send a few boys over to Tommy's to search the grounds. Jus fuckin' do it!"

*************

Arthur paced around outside the house, his mind addled thinking the worst. Maybe Changretta or even Gold had something to do with her disappearance. Ada and Pol were inside helping make coffee and tea for the boys. It'd been over two hours since John showed up with Finn, Isiah and a few other boys. They dashed off into the barns and stomped around in the woods in search of her. 

"You know if she was sleeping in your bed I wouldn't be awake yet having to track through the muck in search of your woman." John only intended to tease his brother, poke fun of him to try and make him laugh, but Arthur was in no mood.

John didn't expect Arthur to launch himself at him. Never saw the punch coming that knocked him on the ground. John was cursing and yelling at Arthur, but her honor was the only thing Arthur cared about. Rolling around in the grass beside the driveway,   
Arthur growling like a madman hitting John with a fit of unbridled anger. He wouldn't stop, not after Pol and Ada screamed for him to stop, not when Tommy joined in. It took Tommy pulling him off John to get Arthur to stop, even then he was still spitting in rage glaring at John. 

"Christ Arthur, I was just kidding!" John grumbled wiping the blood from the side of his mouth. The shiner from Arthur's right hook already bruising underneath his eye.

"Enough Arthur!" It sounded more like a request than an order coming from Tommy. Johnny Dog's voice rang out from the horse pasture near the barn. 

"I found her Tommy!" Arthur shoved himself out of Tommy's hold and went running.

From the edges of the horse pasture, Johnny Dogs stood looking over the fence. Three large horses lay oddly in a circle. Arthur's raced as if his life depended on it, hoisting himself over the fence escaping Johnny's hold. Tommy and the others gathered around the fence trying to spy what could have the horses laying on the cold ground near the middle of the pasture. 

"Arthur come back, those horses ain't broken yet, they still got a bit of piss and vinegar in them!" Johnny Dogs was in a right state of panic. He'd seen the destruction horses like these could do when frightened and angry. 

Horses or not Arthur raced across the pasture. He could see the top of her head and her shoulders tucked up leaning against the side of the largest of the three horses. Those three wild stallions began to whinny the closer Arthur came to them. Tails flicking and twitching about in agitation heads thrashing back and forth, teeth bared. All three stood and began rearing when Arthur was within ten feet of them. 

Gianormous horses on their hind legs snorting in vengeance at the intruder before them. Their wild actions creating a barrier between Arthur and Y/n left all who watched terrified. No one knew if they were about to see Arthur trampled or Y/n kicked. Y/n woke with a start scrambling to her feet. A dazed look in her eyes trying to comprehend the events unfolding in front of her. 

Arthur skidded to a stop and threw his arms up an attempt to protect himself from getting stomped. The horses were more than upset, it was as if they were protecting a foal. Tommy and the others screaming behind Arthur to stop, to ease his way back towards the fence. The largest of the three reared again ready to stomp Arthur. Arthur held his forearms close to his face, eyes closed awaiting a hit that never came. 

His eyes peered open to see Y/n resting a hand on his would-be attacker stroking his neck speaking in Romanian, asking the horses to calm. She told them in a soft but firm voice that there was nothing to be afraid of, that none of them were in harm. A delicate laugh fled her mouth when the largest of the three nudged her into a hold against him in the oddest looking hug. His giant head leaning on her nuzzling into her. Each horse circled her pushing their head against hers before trotting back to the barn. Arthur is speechless, his mouth opened partially wanting words to come out but nothing would.

"Right then," Tommy called out from afar. "I thought you were Italian?" Even far away she could hear his laughter.

Arthur shook his head, the fear, and elation both swimming on his face. Y/n took a few steps towards him with a sheepish smile on her face. He took his opportunity at the closeness and yanked her into a tight embrace. Y/n could feel the tension coursing through him. His body buzzing with worry let go with a heavy sigh. Her head tucked safely in the crook of his neck, a hand holding with protective aggression on her lower back. Yet his other hand tenderly on the back of her neck, fingers gliding in her hair. His thumb gliding over the skin of her neck sending a shiver down her back. She tore herself away to answer Tommy and the others staring intently at the sight before them.

"My father's Italian," she grinned proudly, "but my mother was Romany." Arthur's chuckled gasp set her in a smug grin.

"That explains the horses then," Tommy and Johnny Dogs shared a relieved laugh. The gaggle of people near the fence line slowly trickling away.

"What in the bloody hell were you doing out here Love?" He started out sounding so angry but each word softened seeing her smile falter. The worry and fear still heavy in his eyes, a small shake of adrenaline in his body. He thought he'd have to kill someone to find her. He was so sure it was Changretta or Gold that had taken her.

"The stars," her eyes dipped down to the ground. Wringing her hands in anxious guilt. 

"The stars?" His confusion more so for the sudden vulnerable way she was moving. The heaviness in his chest seeing the way she was avoiding his gaze. He reached out taking one of her hands in his, swiping his thumb over her hand.

"Their so bright out here, I never see them like this in Chicago." Her voice was muted and low like a child in trouble.

He couldn't stand her looking at the ground. Lifting her chin to look in those stunning eyes of her, he offered a kind smile. There were too many people afraid of Arthur, of his anger, he didn't want her to be one of them. She let out an inaudible sigh, blinking so rapidly he swore there were tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep out here. I swear I'm not like this, I just... I saw them peeking through my window and I couldn't help myself. So I grabbed a blanket and hopped the fence. I must have been more tired than I thought."

He could feel her trying to move her head down again. How could this strong creature before him fear so ashamed? Arthur's thoughts were all over the place. Was that it, was she ashamed of all these people searching for her in a frenzy? No, only once did she look at any of them and that was Tommy. She was ashamed of the worry she caused him, she was afraid she disappointed him and that made Arthur want to crumble. 

"Arthur... I am sor," he cut her off before she could finish her guilt-laden apology.

"Shh," cupping her face in his hands, glancing from eye to eye. "Next time wake me up if you wanna come lay outside right? You had me thinkin' someone had taken ya. I'm too young for a bloody heart attack, but I was damn close."

"Hmm, that worried so soon?" Her flirty laugh had him in a nervous stance, shifting from foot to foot and running his fingers through his hair. Her laughter got loudly when she noticed the tint of red on his freckled cheeks. 

"Come on Arthur," Tommy called out from beyond the fence line. "Grab your woman and come get some breakfast." Tommy wasn't even trying to hide the sly grin.

"She's not my woman Tommy!" Arthur growled towards Tommy. His anxious fluster in his words had him rolling his eyes closed feeling her hand in his. Her fingers lacing around his in a cold warmth. 

"John's face and the fact you're still holding her hand says otherwise, brother." The amused quip from Tommy had Y/n snickering, covering her laughter with her free hand. 

"I-I uh... sorry," he dropped her hand quickly. The anxiety-riddled sheepish look left her smiling.

"Don't be," tucking her arm around his, fingers clasped through his and headed toward the house. "I've missed breakfast since I've been here in favor of watching the CCTV footage. Do you fellas eat light or am I in for a full English?" 

"I like a woman with a healthy appetite," he chuckled. Between the Betting house, the distillery and all the other things pulling Arthurs's attention, he'd hardly seen her the past week. "I expect with the whole family here now were in for a full English." 

"Good, I'm starving." 

That smile of hers, the warmth of her touch, that damned laugh he'd dreamt about each night, Enough was enough he thought, no more pussyfooting around. The flirting, the glances, it was too much for him to deny anymore. She made him feel alive, feel like he never had before. Anxiety and fear be damned, he wanted something more. She was different than the others. He was nervous, but comfortable around her and damned if the last week hadn't been rough on him only seeing her briefly each day. He planted his feet on the spot and pulled her to hasty stop. A wild adoring light in his eyes.

"You and me right, dinner tonight?" Similar suave confidence like what he had the first night in the Garrison rushing through him.

"A proper date?" Y/n questioned, her lips curling in a grin.

"Yeah a proper date, I'll even wear a tie." He smirked as she bounced her head from side to side in thought trying to leave him hanging in suspense before answering his question with a kiss that left him wide-eyed and grinning.

"Stop planning your wedding and hurry up before John and Finn eat everything," Tommy yelled from the front door.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur was true on his word, wearing a sharp black three-piece suit complete with silky black tie. Y/n's eyes kept wandering his way the whole drive to the restaurant, hardly glanced at her menu. She never heard the waiter attempting to take her drink order. It was amusing and a new feeling for Arthur having someone so affected by him. The shy smile on her lips, the flutter of her eyes and the rosy hue tinting her cheeks. It gave him a surge of confidence. Not in a cocky smug sort of way that was common with John or even Tommy, but the sort that made him feel he could face anything as long as she was by his side. 

He'd spent an hour before knocking on her door trying to psych himself up. Old feelings of being nothing special, nothing worthwhile raging inside him. Staring in the mirror all he saw were failures, couldn't understand what she saw in him. He was gruff and stubborn, beaten down by anxiety and severe PTSD. His relationship with Linda hadn't help either. 

She yelled and screamed at him, blamed him for everything. Nothing was ever good enough for her. Linda had to have the latest of everything, the newest clothes, the in-style hair, and nails. The fortune he'd amassed quickly going down the drain. She was obsessed with staying ahead of the social elite and soon she found Arthur embarrassing. From the way, he dressed and spoke to the unconditional love he had for his family. She pushed and shoved him into taking the family businesses away from Tommy, he was the oldest after all. 

Linda never understood Arthur at all, didn't know what made him tick. She never held him in an embrace, never kissed him with anything other than a quick peck that felt more like an obligation rather than love and devotion. She looked the other way and even walked away from him when the night terrors brought on by his PTSD had him screaming and writhing in bed. She never even showed the slightest bit of emotion after finding out he'd tried to kill himself, she only asked why he failed at that too.

Studying Y/n across the table from him, the glow of her in the candlelight left him breathless and grinning like a fool. She cared, Y/n was genuinely interested in him and how he was doing. Even though she busied herself mapping out Changretta's movements and he was up to his elbows in family work, she still found moments throughout the day to text him. Reminding him to eat something, to drink a bit of water because the water content in whiskey didn't count. 

She made sure to see him before he'd lost himself in exhaustion at night. The symptoms of the withdrawal had lessened, the shakes had gone, but the emotions still clung to him. He traded one addiction for another and drew her. Sketches on whatever paper he had at hand while at work and a massive sketchbook in his room at Tommy's. 

Y/n would stop at his door with a kind smile and a warm embrace. The concern rundown of questions. Did you eat? Get enough water and so forth and so on. They'd steal away a few moments of silence behind his closed door. He couldn't fathom how she could take even the quickest of glances at him and just know he needed something more. 

He'd settled himself in bed for the night and she would be there, nothing sexual but she'd lay beside him. Arthur would rest his head on her chest listening to the beat of her heart. Snake his arms around her and sigh at her warmth. The heavy sigh releasing the stresses of the day feeling her fingers ruffle through his hair, the scratch of her nails on his scalp. Y/n would lay that way in silence giving him comfort in the smallest of actions until he found himself losing his battle with sleep. She managed to take away the pain leaving him with nothing but a calming hope and restful night's sleep before she'd take her leave studying her footage.

Any other time in his life Arthur would have jumped the gun. Flashed a fake smile, feigning interest in a woman to get her into bed. Dropping a few bills on several rounds of drinks and taking her home. Rolling around in a night of fun before sneaking out in the predawn hours. He wasn't that guy anymore, he didn't want to be that guy. 

The first night Y/n had stayed in his room until he fell asleep, she'd snuck out of his room only to bump into Tommy in the hallway. He didn't say anything out loud but the raised brow was enough. Y/n rolled her eyes and walked away. The boys would think whatever they wanted to think no matter what she would have said. They wouldn't understand what she'd done for Arthur. 

To them, it wasn't possible to be that close to a woman without taking things further. It was mindblowing to see the connection that Arthur and Y/n had. So much tension between the two of them yet it wasn't what they chose to focus on. Pol and Ada could see it, the way they glanced at each other. The subtle touches and how close they sat near each other. It wasn't about sex, it was letting the other know they were there and they'd be there no matter what. 

"Like I said early," Y/n reached for her glass answering Arthur's question. Wine and appetizers set on the table between. "My mother was a Romany. It's not like that lifestyle is easy in this day and age, let along the arranged marriage aspect of it." Arthur nodded in understanding. 

"She fled Europe for the U.S., sang in clubs across the country and wound up in Chicago. It was only a matter of time before she met my father. She said it was love at first sight but I think she'd never had anyone give her that kind of attention before. She looked the other way at the ruthlessness of his 'business' because he never lifted a hand toward her in anger. His first wife had died after having Markus and Cecilia. It was only a matter of time until I came along.

"I wasn't supposed to survive. Doctors told her there was a myriad of things wrong with me, that I'd never survive. Tried to convince her to abort me, but she was stubborn. Turns out I survived everything they said I wouldn't. Each time I wound back in the hospital with an illness they were convinced would kill me, I came back fighting harder than before. She never wanted the traditions to fall on me, the lifestyle of her clan. My mother wanted me to be free to choose how my life would end up. Cancer got her in the end, it tore my father to pieces. He never married again."

"The name that Gold called you, Charani... what's it mean?" Arthur had a yearning to learn everything about her, the good and the bad. 

"Surprised you don't know that. Thought you lot were Romany too?" Y/n's laughter made him smile as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Wasn't one for learnin' all that, not like Tommy. It seemed a bit old fashioned to me in the modern age." He relaxed into his chair sipping on his glass of wine. All of this was a bit beyond him, the fancy restaurant, the silly pairings of different wines for everything, but she deserved better. 

"It means Phoenix," she trailed off getting lost in the flickering movement of the candle flame. 

"Like the fiery bird in myths?" The gruff tone of his voice sent a visible shudder through her. He couldn't help but grin watching her close her eyes as her smile slid over her mouth.

"Yes, but it's also my name. My mother thought it was fitting. Too many times facing death only to rise again."

**********

Too much wine during dinner lead to dancing in the restaurant, too bad it wasn't the type of place meant for dinner and dancing. They were ushered out reluctantly. At another time in his life, Arthur might have threatened the waitstaff and management for pushing them out, but he held her hand in his laughing with her. Too tipsy to drive, they wandered down the road towards him home in the city. Laughter trailing in their wake as they asked ridiculous questions of each other.

He wanted to give her a tour of his home, but her shiver from the cold walk had him stoking the fire in his living room instead. She slid out of her heels and sat on a plush rug near the fireplace, hands outstretched toward the warmth with a smile on her face. Y/n hadn't felt so free in a long time, her mind free of worry. Arthur grabbed a blanket hung over the back of the couch and sat snug behind her. His arms and the blanket encasing her in a cocoon of English heat. He let his chin rest on her shoulder, feeling her head lean against his.

Since coming home from the war, Arthur had been gruff and rowdy in public. The rough and harsh enforcer for his family. Always getting his hands dirty fighting for them and their business. Anyone who'd had the unfortunate grace to meet him thought he came across as a bit of an asshole, uncaring for anyone, not a Shelby or Grey. All brawn but a secretly hidden brain. With Y/n, he felt himself changing, less angry, less stressed. There was a soothing calm that washed over him each time she smiled. 

Clothing scattered all over the living room floor of his row house, music softly playing in the background. Y/n lay in front of Arthur on her side facing the fire. Snug behind her, kissing her neck and shoulder, his fingers trailing over her exposed skin admiring her. Every scar, each mark, and curve. He was fascinated by the tattoos on her outer thighs. On her right side, dozens of tally marks were etched beneath a sinister-looking Reaper. On the left side, the side his fingers were grazing over now were seventeen tally marks below a Phoenix rising from the ashes. 

Y/n sighed feeling the way his fingers lingered on her tattoo. His index finger tracing over each tally mark slowly. She closed her eyes feeling safer than she ever had. Her breathing slowed finding a serene solace in his touch. This was a feeling she never wanted to end. Too many random thoughts were rolling around in Arthur's mind. He stayed silent trying to grasp onto one. 

"I didn't want to need someone or even fall in love," he whispered gruffly in her ear, kissing her neck gently. "I didn't really want anything, but then you appeared and suddenly I wanted everything."

Teary-eyed at his words, the kindest, most tender beautiful words she'd ever heard uttered her way; Y/n rolled on her back staring up Arthur. Her knuckles swept over his jawline. Love could be fickle and cruel that much she knew, but Y/n also saw the stars themselves in the way he looked at her.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a deafening pounding echoing from somewhere that stirred Arthur from his sleep. Groggily opening his eyes, they darted around the room. The music still playing from the stereo, the coals in the fireplace were nothing more than a dimly light glow. Lying on his back he stared at the ceiling. The jittery numbness in his arm sending a stinging ache throughout him. Glancing down smiling seeing Y/n fast asleep on his chest, her legs tangled around his. He almost thought the whole night before was nothing more than a dream. 

The banging rang through the house again, a furious pounding of a fist on his front door. It took some maneuvering to get out of Y/n’s clutches. He leaned over pulling the blanket around her shoulders and slid into his dress pants and headed toward the door. His hand was reached out to open it, the doorbell jolted ringing over and over. Throwing the door open in fury at whoever was disturbing his peaceful morning, only to be met with the snarling harpy herself, Linda.

“I hear you’re fucking an American whore now.” The malice and hatred in her voice and demeanor. She was a spiteful little thing who disguised herself to everyone else as a dutiful Christian woman who spent her weekends working at the church. 

“Best you turn around and leave,” Arthur did his best to keep his calm. He was not in the mood for her bullshit, but the timing of her showing up now didn’t escape him either.

“I’m not happy with my settlement Arthur, I want more,” she spat with a sneer.

“Stop the bullshit, I paid what the courts ordered. You’re not getting a penny more from me.” He exhaled a deep breath in an attempt to keep his voice level trying not to wake Y/n. 

“I want your shares in the Shelby businesses. Sign them over to me or I’ll let it slip that I’m pregnant with your child Arthur.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a grin thinking she could extort him.

“Cut the bullshit Linda, no one’s going to believe you!” The rage coursing through him now had him seeing red. Linda’s greediness would be her downfall, he just hoped it would have happened long ago.

“You think you’re the only one in this town with connections?” The malicious laugh of hers made his jaw clench. "As soon as I say I’m pregnant and plead for assistance, they’ll demand you get tested and the documents WILL declare you the father!“

"I haven’t touched you in two damned years!” His voice raised drawing the attention of a few passers-by. "Fuck off you bloodsucking harpy!“

"You’ve been warned, Arthur. I have powerful friends who aren’t afraid of the Shelby’s. You’ll lose everything, even your new whore.”

Y/n heard everything, she was wide awake the instant Arthur covered her up. She wasn’t one to eavesdrop nor was she one to standby and listen to Linda thinking she had the upper hand on Arthur. Y/n was nothing if not a sarcastic little shit who loved to put people in their place when the moment called for it.

Her only thought now was whether or not to pull a Godiva. Smirking she stood and slipt into the first piece of clothing she found on the trek out of the living room. Strolling up behind Arthur she draped an arm around his neck placing a kiss along his jaw sending Linda into a huffing tantrum with a burning hatred.

“Linda, Linda, Linda,” Y/n tisked shaking her head.

“Whore!” The shrill growl erupting from Linda had Y/n smirking. "Give me what I want Arthur or you’ll regret it.“

"The only regret I have is you, Linda.” Arthur’s tension eased feeling Y/n’s presence.

“Fine have it your way,” Linda bobbed her head and squinted her eyes placing her hand on her stomach while looking at Y/n. "You should know then…“

"That you’re carrying Changretta’s baby, yeah I know.” Linda was horrified. Arthur’s eyes widened turning to see the cocky smirk on Y/n’s face.

“How did… how did you…” Linda sputtered unable to finish, all color drained from her face.

“Oh, I know everything,” Y/n laughed. "Just because I’m the American trollop doesn’t mean I’m ignorant. For example, you’ve been fucking Changretta for over a year now, but he’s not the man you thought he was, at least not the man you left Arthur for. The money’s no longer flowing heavily in your fingers now that’s he’s getting bored with you. Let me guess, he’s angrier, resentful even. It’s only a matter of time until he kicks you to the curb or worse. Probably sooner when he finds out your preggers.“

"Shut up.” Linda could only whisper, all of that hopped-up energy to extort money out of Arthur gone.

“Linda,” Y/n grinned. "Listen, Linda, because I don’t want to have to repeat myself.“ Y/n let go of Arthur and stood tall, chin up, glaring down at her. "You come anywhere near Arthur, the Shelby’s, the Grey’s or any of their businesses again and I won’t hesitate.” Y/n poked Linda’s nose smiling. 

“Are you seriously THREATENING A PREGNANT WOMAN!” Her screams calling attention to people up and down the whole block starting their workday commutes.

“Stop your lying right there. You weren’t keeping it anyway.” Y/n inched her face closer to Linda without fear. "You’re standing there trying to blackmail Arthur out of money the day before your scheduled abortion, tsk, tsk, tsk. Leave or you’ll regret it.“

Linda turned on her heels screaming in frustration storming away. She pushed her way between Tommy and the boys, chattering in shrill shrieks stomping down the street. All of them watched her disappear out of sight in a bout of laughter. John turned back toward Arthur’s doorway and licked his lips grinning widely. Finn stood nervously beside John in a bright blush avoiding looking at the door. Tommy stood still arching a brow lighting a cigarette. 

Arthur finally turned to see what had his brother’s in such a state. Y/n stood next to him smiling. Her hair messed up in a sultry come hither sort of way. His eyes traveled up her bare legs seeing his white button-up shirt from the night before hastily buttoned, but not leaving much to the imagination. He could see Tommy glancing curiously at the tattoos on her thighs. 

"Close your mouth John, you look like a suckerfish.” Y/n spun on the spot planting on kiss on Arthur’s cheek and sauntered back inside. Arthur swatted her playfully and chuckled following close behind.


	7. Chapter 7

"Just a quick check Arthur," Y/n was already out of the car jogging toward the back door to the distillery. "The cameras went out, there's no reason for that." 

"I understand that Love but we were about to..." her laughter and the way she looked back at him over her shoulder left him flustered. "We could have at least sent one of the boys over here to take a look." He followed after her in hot pursuit.

"Hardly, my luck they touch the wrong wire and poof all my equipment is fried. I'm sorry Arthur but it's got to be me. I'll make it up to you though." Her smile said enough. 

Her need to check on things in person was admirable. She was thorough and hands-on, not afraid to get her hands dirty. He understood that better than most having to have solved issues that propped up all the time for his family. Arthur was used to the odd interruption, he just wished it wouldn't have happened in the middle of their night out. 

The lights never should have been turned off in the still room and the guard that should have been patrolling was nowhere in sight. It didn't take but a few moments inside to smell the alcohol in the air heavier than it should have been or feel the puddle of liquid covering the concrete beneath their feet. Careful steps beside the giant gin stills letting their eyes adjust to the low light. A few more steps inching further inside had them on high alert. Arthur and Y/n both pulled out their pistols and glanced at each other. Y/n put her lips to her mouth and they stood listening.

Deep inside the still room, the sound of an ax smashing into metal echoed out. Gushing liquid cascading out of the metal stills and splashing on the floor. Arthur let out a low aggravated growl and signaled for Y/n to head to the left and he'd come around on the right. Y/n slipped out of her sneakers creeping silently and barefoot toward the back of the expansive room, gun poised at the ready. She could hear voices ahead of her, the distinct thick Italian accents celebrating too soon.

"He'll be pleased," one chuckled. "The fires will look nice."

"Don't be a fool," the other hissed. "Talk of such things after the fires are lit."

Y/n could make them out from the still she hid behind. Rolling her eyes seeing that even now they were dressed in the regulation dark grey suits that all of Changretta's family wore. 'Nothing stereotypical about these goons at all,' she thought to herself. She stifled her laugh. For as ruthless as Changretta was, it was like he took all his ques for himself and his men from repetitive viewings of the Godfather or Goodfellas. 

"It doesn't matter once the other boys get their hands on Shelby's documents, it's as good as his." 

Hearing there were more men somewhere inside the distillery Y/n holstered her gun. She could see Arthur across the way with the same look, his head nodded toward the stairs headed into the offices and crept that way. He paused at the bottom of the steps, turning in time to see the knives Y/n had thrown sinking into the throats of Changretta's goons. Y/n's aim was the envy of Arthur, but as soon as he saw the blood mixing in with the alcohol covering the floor he had to close his eyes.

Flashbacks of the war attempted to flood his mind. Images of men under his command screaming and crying out for help. Bodies scattered in the dirt and muck. Each one morphing into his greatest fear, the faces of Tommy and John everywhere his eyes glanced. Their blood mingling with the ground, the stench of copper, charred flesh and the burning Humvees filling his nose like he was still there. The heat from the explosion rocked his convoy off the road licking at his skin. 

The insurgents clamoring out of nowhere surrounding him. The muffled sounds of life being snuffed out of each man in his company that lay on the road. Arthur had been the only survivor, he still had no idea how it was possible. A few abrasions and a couple of cracked ribs but he was the only one that lived that day. The feral eyes of the insurgents burned into his memory. The savage way they advanced on him, backing him into a corner. No ammo left, nothing left but his knife. The primalness in his growl as he cut them down. It was nothing different than growing up in the streets of Birmingham having to fight back against rival gangs. 

Arthur lay in a pile of bodies for hours, exhausted and dehydrated. He honestly thought that was where he was going to die. On the side of the road in the middle of nowhere in some God-forsaken country fighting a war for reasons he still didn't understand. Birds circled above him, a few already scavenging off the bodies of his comrades. Delirious he never heard the roar of the engines, the stench of diesel and smoke. He blacked out before he could see Tommy and John racing from their convoy of trucks surveying the scene. He never felt them carrying him out.

Arthur was rigid, his hand tightened in a death grip on the railing of the stairs. His knuckles as white as snow, chest heaving, his breath ragged and sharp. It was risky being near someone amid a panic attack brought on by PTSD. One never knew what exactly they were reliving in their head or whether or not it was about to affect those around them. Y/n had seen one too many people suffer similar episodes throughout her life, even had a few herself. 

She did what all the experts advised against and stepped into his bubble. Her hands resting on his shoulders, slowly sinking into Arthur's chest with hers, she let her forehead gently bump his. She watched the violent flutter of his eyes behind tightly closed lids. The firm clench of his jaw and the flex of the muscles. Her hands slid up to his face cupping his cheeks. 

Y/n knew without the aid of drugs his anxieties were on edge. She'd seen him struggle for weeks. All the undealt with emotions he used them to numb would only increase now. Just the sight of blood and bodies was enough to set him on edge. Her mind was reeling with how the next few days would be. Y/n knew tonight would be rough on him, but she'd be there for him whether he wanted it or not. Therapy wasn't his thing, he and the other Shelby's viewed it as a sign of weakness not to mention all those insecurities could be given out and used to someone's advantage. Innocently curling up in bed with Arthur at night seemed to be the only thing that kept his demons at bay.

"When all this bullshit is done, we're going away for a while. You and me, somewhere warm with lots of sun."

The sound of her whispered voice combined with her touch was enough to slow his breathing. A groaning sigh and a grumble in his chest shook his body. Y/n watched his lids slowly open, the anxiety high in those deep blue seas of his. Leaning her chin upward placing her lips to his was the straw that broke the camels back. 

How she always managed to break him out of that walled up prison he kept himself in when things got bad was a mystery. His hands tugging her closer, the kiss turned heated, passionate. She moaned into his mouth sending him groaning for a new reason. She was his new drug and he craved it, he needed her.

"Arthur," Y/n pulled away breathless. "There are still idiots in here somewhere."

"Right," Arthur smirked pulling out his phone sending out an S.O.S. to the rest of the Blinders.

"You good?" Y/n tilted her head in worry. "I won't take offense or question your manhood if you stay here and cover this exit." Arthur only shook his head and pushed her up the stairs following close behind. He'd damn himself to the pits of hell for eternity and more if he let her go into the fray without him.

They had swept the rest of the building finding nothing except two figures guarding the door to the security room. Long dark grey trenchcoats giving away who they worked for, even Arthur rolled his eyes at the moronic stereotype. Giant numbskulls, nothing more than walking non-talking muscle. Too stupid to notice the shadowy figures creep through the cubicles their way. Not even the low 'clink' sound of Y/n's knives flying through the air caught their attention. The thump of their bodies slumping back against the wall. Arthur and Y/n raced to lessen the sound of their bodies hitting the floor. 

The door crept open without a sound, a lone figure sat in front of the expansive security system. The system that held every record, business deal and more. The figure sat in front of his laptop downloading the entirety of Shelby Limited. Y/n took the shot not giving Arthur the chance. Shoving the hacker's body aside and set to work on his laptop. Letting the download complete, she watched laughing as the virus did its thing. Arthur rested a hand on her shoulder staring down at her with a raised eye. She glanced his way with a hint of trouble, but that smirk of hers gave him a sense of relief that whatever she'd done was alright.

The virus would run its course bouncing through each IP address the hacker had used to cover his tracks until it wound up where all the information was headed. Changretta's hacker may have been smart, but Y/n was smarter. Only Tommy knew that she'd encrypted all Shelby Limited files and hid them elsewhere. All Shelby Limited documents replaced with a virus filled with the chaos she couldn't wait to watch unfold.

"I need a drink Love," Arthur leaned in kissing her temple. "Tommy keeps the best stuff hidden behind some books in his office, feel like committin’ another crime?"

"Lead the way handsome," she chuckled delicately as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the last hour inside the distillery.

Music played in the background of Tommy's office. Wall to wall dark wood and leather-bound books and furniture. Hints of cigar smoke lingered in the air in the dimly lit room. Y/n sat in Tommy's chair with her feet up on his desk without a care in the world. One of Tommy's expensive Cuban cigars resting between her lips and a glass of 32-year-old aged Irish whiskey in her hand. Arthur couldn't bring himself to sit where she sat, though he admired the view from across the desk. He couldn't fathom how she managed to pull off looking so stunning and deadly and somehow innocent at the same time. 

He could hardly contain himself with the way she looked at him. The little side grin that curled up on the edge of her lips. The dreamy gaze in her eyes, the flutter of her lashes. Arthur had her out of the chair in a flash setting her atop the desk shoving all of the contents to the floor. Something about the song playing on the stereo. Y/n had played it one too many times while watching video feeds tracking Changretta, Going to Hell by the Pretty Reckless. 

Arthur had been loving and slow every other time with Y/n. Savoring each kiss, and touch. Showing her and surprisingly himself the softer passionate side he kept hidden. Letting his fingers and eyes map every inch of her. She was mesmerizing like a fire, the way she moved, the warmth she filled him with. A burning desire to be more than just a bruiser, more than just the right hand that dealt with whatever was in the way of the Shelby's. But he knew, oh he knew that she could burn him to the ground at the slightest hint of betrayal. He chanced his heart and kissed her flames anyway.

The kisses were rough and frantic verging on primalistic claiming. Arthur felt like an animal nipping her neck. Teeth grazing across her skin before they sunk in for the kill leaving a love bite, marking her for all to see. Y/n was his and he'd be hers for as long as she'd have him. Fingertips trailing over bare skin, kneading into her flesh, each moan that left her mouth only egged him on. Each frenzied thrust from Arthur shook the desk. The oak legs scratching against the polished floor. 

It was rough and chaotic, but the alcohol had done nothing to satiate the real thirst they'd been suffering from. Y/n's legs tightly wound around Arthur's waist, her arms around his back. Her nails digging in with each thrust. Grunting and groaning, dew coated skin. The smell of the cigar smoke long gone, hints of sweat and sex heavy in the air. Deep mumbled 'Love you's' left each of their mouths. 

Neither heard the Blinders calling out from within the factory. Never heard the heavy footsteps outside Tommy's office. Their names being called out in rushed concern were drowned out by the music and Y/n's low moans of pleasure. Arthur felt her pulsing, she was practically vibrating around him the closer she came to losing herself. Y/n's head fell back, her eyes locked on Arthur's. A hedonistic orgasmic cry of Arthur's name that left her mouth as she let herself go sent a shiver down his spine.

The door to Tommy's office opened with a loud bang, both Arthur and Y/n jumped in surprise, though Arthur never stopped thrusting inside her. Both turned to see a wide-eyed Tommy standing in the doorway. A smug grin filled both their faces. Y/n bit her lip to keep from laughing seeing Tommy struggle to keep the expressionless look on his face. A deep chuckle rumbled in Arthur's chest. 

Tommy pulled his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket lighting one up. His brows furrowed, eyes darting around the room taking in the contents of his desk on the floor. Snuffed out cigars in an ashtray, tipped over glasses and whiskey dripping on the hardwood floors. He finally looked back at Arthur and Y/n with a raised brow and let out a deep sigh.

"Carry on then." Tommy rolled his eyes and pulled the door closed behind, but not before calmly calling out. "Clean up the fucking mess before you leave."


	8. Chapter 8

It only took a couple of days for Changretta to retaliate with the help of Linda and her scorn. Arthur was usually the first in the Betting House before it opened each morning. He found the silence peaceful. Though unnerving to some, to him it was wonderful. Only the sounds of the city outside and papers shuffling on his desk. Before Y/n, that freedom from the hustle and bustle of busybodies and nosy eyes gave him time to feed his demons. 

He'd pull out his vial and chop his lines on his desktop. Fine particles of white coke lined up and cut with a credit card. Delicate lines of blissful numbness calling out to him. The silence and the emptiness of the Betting House at that time of the morning became his home away from home. He'd shut the door to his office, hunch his tall lanky frame forward in his chair and do line after line. He'd become predictable in his routine, so much so that Linda let it slip on purpose to Luca. Too bad for her she never knew the effect Y/n had on Arthur.

The explosion rocked through the early Monday dawn hours of Birmingham. The ground shook, pieces of brick and mortar of the building created shrapnel that rained down over the streets. Car horns blaring and singing their whining song from getting hit with the shockwave of the blast. The twinkling sound glass shattering from windows of nearby businesses. There was nothing left of the Betting House but fragments of the foundation and burst water main spewing a fountain of water into the sky.

***

The family and Y/n were gathered around Tommy's office in his home. John had been the most vocal, ready to fight and bring the war straight to Changretta. It turned into a massive argument, everyone began arguing and screaming over what to do next. Only Y/n and Tommy sat quietly, reflecting in the events at hand. Arthur stood beside Y/n practically seething at what could have happened to him had he not been curled up behind Y/n that morning in a deep sleep.

"Enough!" Tommy's calm but dominant voice rang out in the room, his fist pounding on his desk trying to evoke silence. 

All mouths closed, but the tension held. Each one of them wanted to retaliate, all of them so worked up for revenge. It had to end and quickly. Glasses clinking being filled with alcohol, plumes of cigarette smoke wafted up to the ceiling. It'd become so quiet one could hear the Grandfather clock in the corner of the office ticking away. The eerie silence was only broken when Y/n started to laugh. At first, it was soft and hardly there muffled behind closed lips, but soon her head fell backward. Her laughter was chilling, but Arthur knew that sound too well having made that sound himself before a fight.

"What the hell is so fucking funny? You're supposed to be here putting an end to this and all you've done is fuck Arthur!" John stood so fast his chair tumbled to the floor behind him. Arthur had been ready to launch himself at John, but Y/n held a hand to his chest.

"All eyes are on you now, idiot." Y/n stood and walked across the office filling a glass of whiskey. "You CAN'T retaliate without the officials pulling you in and that also means Luca can't do anything else either in fear of getting caught in the open. Patience, for now, no one does a fucking thing."

"How the fuck can you ask us not to do anything?! He blew up one of our businesses! Arthur could have fucking been killed!" This time it was Michael that piped up angrily.

"Friday," Y/n smiled knocking back the contents of her glass. "We strike on Friday. I know you like to act hastily John, but trust me. We have eyes on us right now, but I can promise you. We can leave him with almost nothing."

***

Y/n stood in front of the mirror smoothing out her dress trying to hide any lines from the knives strapped around her thighs. Arthur stood beside her in a dark grey dress suit straightening his bowtie, but his eyes kept wandering toward her. There was buzzing energy between them, Arthur desperately wanted it all over with. He wanted to end what he'd started in a drugged up rage. If he'd only listened to Tommy, if he'd only waited and been patient, none of this would be going on right now.

Arthur had been the one that roughed up Luca Changretta's brother Angel. He was the one that shot Luca's father. No amount of excuses over his addictions could ever fix what he'd started. Y/n knew he felt guilt and remorse over it. How much he hated himself for all of the bullshit he started. Each night Y/n clung to Arthur listening to him reliving his regrets. Arthur may have slept better with her near, but that didn't stop him from talking in his sleep. 

Y/n held him close, wrapped herself around him trying not to cry hearing him reliving all that trauma throughout his life. Getting roughed up and beaten by his father so he wouldn’t beat on his siblings. The first kid he'd beaten so badly they'd spent a week in the hospital. The first life he'd taken when he had to protect his brothers. All the lives he ended during the war. Every single event that shaped and molded him into the person he never wanted to be. 

Y/n wanted him away from it all. She knew he had an old soul inside him. An artist that needed freedom from responsibilities he never wanted in the first place. Tommy had managed the family well enough, and Arthur had played the role of the older brother and the family enforcer for too long. She wanted him to have peace, wanted to watch him sleep throughout the night without crying out in his sleep apologizing for the choices he'd made in his life. It wore on her, this plan of hers because he'd have to take more lives before it could all end. She wanted him safe and away from it all, but he wouldn't leave her side. 

"Wait for the signal," Y/n smiled leaning her head on Arthur's shoulder. "By then the video feed will be on repeat for all CCTV footage in a five-mile radius."

A bulk of the Blinders were lying in wait in a row home a short distance from the retro dance club Changretta's top men went to every Friday night. She only needed to be inside the building long enough for the program on her phone to hijack the main video feeds. She straightened her dress again as Arthur opened the front door holding out his hand for her to take.

"What's the signal?" John cocked his head unsure of this whole plan.

"Tommy will know it when he hears it," Y/n smirked and shot a wink in Tommy's direction.

"You're trouble Love," Arthur chuckled as they walked down the road toward the club.

"You love it and you know it," she playfully smacked his arm.

"Did anyone else notice the brass knuckles attached to her stilettos?" Finn questioned watching them disappear into the darkness of the night.

***

It was a retro little club from the 1920s, how it ever survived with all that had happened throughout the years. The whole building had been abandoned for ages until someone found it by accident and renovated it bringing it back to life. Lush rosy lighting throughout the dance floor. Plush velvety chairs around tables covered in the finest linens and flickering candles. A tiny stage set for a brass band took centerstage that drew all the dancing couples. 

None of Changretta's men had noticed Arthur. He blended in with the rest of them in his dark grey suit and trenchcoat. The doorman didn't even glance his way, his eyes were enthralled by Y/n's strategically low cut dress and let them in without a word. Not a single eye focused on Arthur as they made their way towards a table and sat down. Y/n giggled and spoke with a raspy seductive voice keeping the attention of the waiter on her as he took their drink order. 

She needed time for her program to take hold, to worm its way through the security camera's and to play the loop of the club she recorded the week before. The little ones and zeros in her code disabled the alarm system. Arthur grinned across the table as she worked her magic. Police and fire near the area would soon be directed to a false call of a massive warehouse fire. Y/n had told him the night before how everything would go or how she hoped it would. 

Arthur pulled her out on the dancefloor, which was never apart of her plan, but ever the romantic at heart he couldn't stand the thought of not dancing with her. The way she looked all dolled up, a 180 from her normal attire. His chest puffed up a little bit seeing the tinge of pink in her cheeks each time she looked at him. The playful but almost shy smile that graced her lips when his palm rested on her back. 

Arthur's ego swelled feeling her steps fall in line with his. Her body relaxed into his, giving him control leading them around the dance floor. He knew it wasn’t easy for her to relinquish control to another person, but she always gave in to him. Agile beautiful steps that turned into a twirl only to pull her in even closer than before. He trapped one of her thighs between his, their movements became slow. Their dance nothing more now than a tight tiny turn in a circle. 

Y/n was relishing in this tiny moment, the normalness of it. Just a girl and a guy, slow dancing. Eyes only for each other and filled with devotion neither had ever felt before. Despite the circumstances at the moment, Arthur felt like the luckiest man on Earth. Y/n fought for him, not just against Changretta's forces but fought his demons with him. She was by his side when the anxieties struck when the doubts were eating him from the inside out. She was there even when he couldn't understand why. Why would a woman like her ever waste her time with a man like him?

It only took them a moment between songs to see the movement out of the corners of their eyes. Arthur and Y/n were made, Luca's men were trying to close in. Y/n kissed Arthur on his nose flashing a sinful grin. A few taps on her phone had the lights dimmed and the sprinkler system set off. Water dousing everyone inside and sending them dashing towards the exits. It gave Y/n the distraction she needed to set the signal. The Pretty Reckless's Going to Hell loudly blaring through every speaker in the club. 

It was looking like an unfair fight, Changretta's men thinking they had the upper hand. Arthur pulled his guns out and Y/n hiked up her dress reaching for her knives. Arthur risked kissing her on her temple and the trouble began. Shots fired and bodies dropping to the floor. Screams of pain and grunts of frustration drowned out by the song. Y/n and Arthur stood back to back giving those goons a run for their money. 

Blinders came rushing in and joined in the fun. Only Tommy stood back for a second watching his oldest brother and Y/n. Their movements were matched and almost coordinated. Ethereal unnatural sync between them. Arthur turned his shoulder in time to see someone advancing on Y/n and shot them dead. Y/n herself sinking a knife into the throat of another that had gotten too close to Arthur. 

When she'd run out of knives, off came her stilettos. It was surprising that Finn was the only one to notice the silver-plated brass knuckles on the bottom of her shoes or the metal-tipped spiked heel. Tommy watched as Y/n stabbed them into a man over and over until he went down. She was knelt on the ground, heaving and out of breath. No one left alive but Blinders. Arthur lifted her off the floor and pulled her into his chest in a bone-crushing hug.

"Let's go, the feed won't last much longer and you don't want to be here when the EMP goes off," Y/n mumbled in Arthur's neck.

"EMP?" John wore an impressed smirk.

"Of course, how else would I wipe all their phones and everything else. It's the CCTV that's the bitch, a wipe of that data would cause too much attention. This will just look like a turf war, let's roll." Arthur helped Y/n limp out the backdoor.

***

The drinks flowed and the celebration was in full swing. A major blow had been dealt against Luca Changretta. The party was raging inside the Garrison when the news flashed across the screen. An old mugshot of Luca stared out at everyone from the television screen behind the bar. He was wanted for questioning for the theft of money from the Queen of England herself. Y/n's little virus had taken hold. The coffers of Buckingham Palace had been dipped into and loads of money missing. The trail had gone straight to Luca and now Interpol, Scotland Yard and dozens of other agencies were looking for him. 

Arthur left Y/n's side only long enough to put a few coins in the jukebox and pulled her away from the bar and the rowdiness of the boys. All the others were drinking and praising Y/n's plan, but Arthur, Arthur just wanted to celebrate her. His fingers grazing over her skin, eyes kept glancing around her for any wounds he may have missed. He didn't want to fight, but he knew that it was how things had to play out. It all started in blood and that's how it would end, he just hoped for his sake that nothing happened to Y/n.

Tommy watched the two of them from his spot at the bar. The way they looked at each other reminded him of how Grace used to look at him, but deep down he still had his doubts. Y/n seemed too good to be true. She'd been good on her word getting her father to lower his price for helping them, but how meticulous she was about all of it. The computers and mapping out routes and routines. He didn't understand how after knowing what Luca had done to her sister, what he almost did to Arthur why she didn't just walk up to him and shoot him the face. Y/n seemed too cloak and dagger for his liking, like an assassin in those late-night movies he watched when his insomnia was terrible. 

Y/n made Arthur happy, gotten him to stop using drugs. Hell Arthur was calm and almost level headed, but Tommy couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't a con. As if Y/n was playing some game, bidding her time getting enough information on the Shelby's for her father. He knew that she was putting herself on the line along with them, but she did so too willingly never asking for anything in return. She put herself in danger for people she hardly knew. 

"Why that song?" John nudged Tommy as he sat beside him at the bar.   
Tommy didn't answer at first still watching Y/n and Arthur. He only paused long enough to pull out his cigarettes, lighting one and taking a long drag before he looked toward John with an arched brow.

"It was the song that was playing when I caught them fucking in my office at the distillery," Tommy answered flatly. A ruckus of noise bellowed out in the bar. Blinders cheering at Arthur who had Y/n dipped low toward the ground before crashing his lips into hers.

"Fucking on your desk?" Michael scoffed knocking back a shot of whiskey. "I don't know who's got bigger balls for doing that, Arthur or Y/n?"

"Y/n," Tommy chuckled shaking his head. Even though he had a hard time trusting her, he had to admit she was good at what she did. "Definitely Y/n."


	9. Chapter 9

"Your choice Shelby," the messenger sneered from his seat across from Tommy. "Either Arthur dies for what he did to start all of this or Changretta takes it all by force and leaves no one, not a single man, woman or child alive. He'll leave you alive long enough to witness it all before it's your turn and it’ll be painful."

With that, the messenger took his leave of Tommy and Arthur. The door to Tommy's office hardly had time to shut before Arthur was up in a right state pacing around the room. He knew Changretta would make good on this threat, but he couldn't let his family suffer any more for his mistake. His only regret would be Y/n. He knew she'd burn the world to the ground once he was gone. 

"Don't worry Arthur, I've got a plan." The smoke from Tommy's cigarette billowing to the ceiling. His low flat tone conveying a reassurance. 

"Tommy," Arthur had never looked more scared or afraid in his life. Not even when they were little children and Arthur took the beatings from their father so the others didn't have to suffer. 

"I promise you, Arthur, I have a plan. Put it out of your mind for now and let's go see how our boy's shaping up yeah?"

**********

Y/n watched from ringside as Bonnie Gold sparred with a Blinder whose name she could never remember. Pacing around the ring studying his every move, and yelling encouragement when he faked out the Blinder. Aberama Gold studied Y/n intensely, she wasn't anything like the stories he'd heard. He expected some tiny sick little waif, not this raging firecracker enthralled with the match in the ring. Not the skilled fighter he'd seen the past few weeks, not the cunning little minx that had Changretta scrambling. 

"No, no, no," Y/n yelled climbing into the ring shoving the Blinder out.

Bonnie stood in the corner, his father wiping the sweat from his face and offering water. Y/n, on the other hand, slipped out of her sneakers and socks tossing them over the ropes. She stood barefoot in the middle of the ring in a t-shirt and jeans ordering the doors to the gym open and the air conditioning turned off. The instant the doors were open the thick humid air began creeping inside clinging to everything in sight. 

"You have to be ready for anything and training in air conditioning won't help you. You need the elements, expect the worst, be able to move while hardly being able to breathe. Come on Bonnie." She bounced from foot to foot cracking her neck, her hand's shadowboxing in front of her.

"Aren't you going to put on some gloves?" The slightly amused tone in Bonnie's question had her smiling. 

"I'm tougher than I look Gold, besides, I've only ever trained bare-knuckle. I'm an old school kinda girl." Her laughter filled the air through her mouthguard, and Blinders filled in around the ring to watch.

They'd gone round after round, Y/n giving Bonnie a real fight. He'd sweat more sparring against her than he had all morning. He nodded listening to her offering advice between landing hits. The humidity added strain to the workout, it was what he needed, a tougher challenge. Aberama nodded his head in approval seeing the effect she was having on Bonnie, pushing him harder than the others. She was forcing Bonnie out of his comfort zone and into more fight like conditions.

Tommy and Arthur entered the gym watching Y/n from behind. She was incredible, the snake-like moves, bobbing and weaving out of Bonnie's hits. Grinning like a fool Arthur couldn't help but nudge Tommy proudly. He was yelling and cheering as loud as the rest when she ducked out of the way only to land a jab to Bonnie's chest. It's a funny thing when doors are open though, the types of visitors one gets.

It was the flapping of the wings that broke Y/n's concentration. The fluttering sounds of the birds circling overhead before they landed on the ropes. Six rather large ravens sat side by side on the top rung of the ropes of the makeshift boxing ring. The largest of the six let out a single caw. Y/n dropped her guard, her hands dropped to her sides watching them. Bonnie was about to land a hit during her distraction but Aberama climbed in the ring resting a hand on his shoulder. Bonnie hadn't seen his father looked that pale in a long time. 

The ravens in sync cocked their heads to the side quietly watching Y/n. She stood deathly still, fear filling every inch of her for the first time since the death of her sister. Once again the ravens in an unearthly tandem motion turned their heads towards Arthur. The largest again cawed only once before they all took flight and left the gym.

"No," Y/n whispered, her body shaking, vibrating with nerves. All seemed confused but the Golds, Y/n and Tommy. "What did you do?" She glared at Tommy unaware of Changretta's little messenger. "What did you fucking do Thomas Shelby?"

"It'll be alright Y/n," Tommy spoke with an eerie calm. His voice steady and smooth as the stones she threw into the river.

"NO! No, no, no, no!" She screamed wildly crossing the ring and flinging herself over the ropes and on the hard cement floor. 

Striding toward Arthur she cupped his face in her hands distressed. Arthur could feel her shaking, see the tears building in her eyes. A sick feeling bubbling up inside him, she knew. Y/n had never acted like this, never shown this emotional side to anyone aside from Arthur in private. If she was acting like this for all to see, she knew. He felt sick to his stomach feeling her fingers as they trembled on his face.

"Everything will be alright Y/n, I have a plan," Tommy repeated but Y/n turned her anger on him and stepped into his space, getting into his face. He tried his damnedest to remain expressionless peering back at her.

"BULLSHIT!" She hissed between clenched teeth like a rabid dog. "You know damn well what six means. What did you do?!" Y/n shoved her palms against Tommy's chest, not even Arthur tried to stop her. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

She was fuming and buzzing with nervous energy. A crazed enraged gleam in her eyes that meant trouble brewing. The gym slowly emptied at a subtle hand wave from Arthur. He pulled her away from Tommy, not for her but saving Tommy from the damage he knew she could do to his brother. Engulfing her in a tight embrace trying to calm her like she'd done for him so many times. His hand softly stroking up and down her back as she hid her face in the crook of his neck.

"Don't worry Love, nothing's going to happen, I promise." He did his best to sound reassuring, Tommy's plan rushing inside his mind. 

"I can't... Arthur, I can't go through that again," Y/n sniffled back a cry. "I won't survive losing someone I love again." His hands left her back and slid down her wrist, gently grazing over her scars. He brought them to his lips pressing light kisses upon them.

"I'm not going anywhere, my Love. I'm too stubborn and thick-headed now that I've got you." He hugged her tight again, not wanting to let go.


	10. Chapter 10

The entire building was alive with a blood lust watching the match in the arena. Alfie Solomon's fighter Goliath versus Bonnie Gold. The betting was furious before the bout started, only a handful of people bet on Bonnie to win and all those were Blinders. It hardly seemed fair seeing the two fighters stand side by side before the fight began. Goliath towered over Bonnie making him look like a sickly child. Bonnie winked at Y/n when the fighters stood glove to glove. She'd helped him more than the fighters the Shelby's had brought to teach him. 

Round after round Bonnie took a hit, playing cat and mouse with Goliath. He faked out the audience making them believe that he was injured and tiring out, but Y/n taught him well. He landed a few hits on Goliath but mostly danced away like the fight was too much for him. A few times he took a hit hard enough that had him falling to the mat. He put on a good show, chest heaving acting out of breath. Noodle like arms that had a terrible time staying up, oh Bonnie was playing them all. 

The excitement didn't last long when Y/n got a glimpse of Goliath's cornerman. They looked too familiar for her liking and it was something Arthur noticed as well. Y/n spied Arthur from across the ring sitting near Tommy and John eyeing the cornerman. She could see his jaw clenching, the muscles flexing in disdain. Y/n watched him whispering to Tommy, but Tommy only brushed him off. 

Y/n sat with Pol and Ada, a smattering of Blinders around them as well. She didn't fully understand why Tommy had suggested she sit with them in the first place. She knew he was lying when he tried to say it was for their protection, for Y/n to keep an eye on his sister and aunt because Y/n knew they were more than capable of taking care of themselves. No one would dare try anything with all the other Blinders sitting around them.

Bonnie had landed a stellar hit that had Goliath stumbling backward. Y/n had stood up to cheer him on at the same time a Blinder had been coming back to his seat hands full of beer for the lads around him. Her force was enough to flow him off guard and the cups held onto crashing into her soaking her with stouts and ales. 

"What the fuck?!" She shrieked as the icy cold beer-soaked her back. Her glare frightened the already apologetic Blinder.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry," he mumbled. "It was an accident." She couldn't tell if he was more scared of her or of Arthur finding out.

"S' fine," she snorted out a laugh and excused herself from Pol and Ada jogging toward a bathroom to wring out and dry off. Had she stayed a few seconds longer she might have noticed Arthur trailing after the cornermen who were suddenly leaving the ring.

Arthur never saw the commotion with Y/n across the ring, never saw her get up and leave. His focus turned solely towards the cornermen. He tried telling Tommy there was something off with them, but he wouldn't listen. Tommy kept telling Arthur throughout the fight that he was just paranoid. They weren't paying attention to the fight, didn't even blink when Bonnie managed a hit that had Goliath stumbling and almost going down on the mat. 

They slid away without much notice from the ring and headed toward the gate to the locker rooms. The crowd had stood cheering on Bonnie so no one noticed Arthur mingling with the crowd and following the cornermen. He knew something was off from the start, his gut was telling him so. He had that same nauseated feeling deep in his stomach as he had right before his convoy was hit in the war. 

Pistols raised and safety off as he crept down the hallway towards the locker rooms. The noise from the fight above was muted and fading out. The only thing he could hear was his heart thumping in his ears. He tried to slow his breathing and steady his hands. Arthur barely rounded the corner to the first locker room when he felt a kick his back sending him falling to his knees. He twisted his torso before he hit the ground and shot the man that had kicked him. A bullet right between the eyes, the shot echoing in the tiled room. 

"Don't fuck with the Peaky Fuckin' Blinders," he growled standing up, but Arthur's good luck had all been used in his chance meeting of Y/n.

The garrote snug around his throat. A heavily muscled man held tight to the handles, tugging and tightening his grip of the wire around Arthur's throat. Arthur dropped his gun, fingers bloodied from tearing at the wire trying to pull it away. All the air had been knocked out of him, he couldn't breathe. The large goon pulling him into the locker room with a grunt. Arthur was struggling to breathe trying to put up a fight. Kicking, punching whatever he could manage to hit, but nothing was working in his favor.

His vision turned blurry, blood vessels broke in his eye-filling a reddish hue to everything he saw. His limbs were tingling like they'd fallen asleep, he couldn't move them right. All the energy, all that anger, and rage fled, he had nothing left. He wanted to fight, but there was nothing left. Weakness surging through him, controlling his thoughts. He only hoped Y/n could forgive him. Everything went black as his body crumbled to the ground.

Y/n had sat back down in her seat between Pol and Ada, both of whom gave her a smile of sympathy over the beer incident. She smelled the Garrison at closing time, rye, barley, hops, and malt, but Y/n found the humor in it. At least the beer left her hair feeling silky smooth. Though she was looking forward to a nice long hot bath later and grinned knowing Arthur would gladly join her. 

Y/n turned to say something to Pol when the crowd jumped to their feet in awe, Bonnie had knocked out Goliath cold. His massive body lay face first in the mat. Y/n stood up herself seeing a thrilled Aberama racing into the ring hoisting Bonnie up on his shoulder running him around the ring ecstatically. The bookies were shocked beyond belief knowing they lost thousands to an underdog. 

The entire arena was stunned, half celebrating and the other half left in silence. Blinder's all around jumping and cheering their boy on until Tommy crawled into the ring. He was disheveled and covered in blood. His face was in distress, a range of emotions crashing over him in droves. He snatched the microphone from the announcer and spoke softly.

"My brother is dead." 

Only Bonnie and Aberama in the center of the ring had heard him clearly, both glancing at Y/n. When the noise in the arena failed to quiet, Tommy pulled out a gun from his back and shot it into the air. The crowd hushed into a ghostly silence, none dared moved but Y/n. She took a step toward the ring, Pol reaching out trying to hold her back as she watched Tommy. Y/n glanced over where Arthur had been sitting earlier only to see an empty seat.

"No," she whispered, her body fighting against the urge to flee. 

"My... brother... Arthur... is... DEAD!" Tommy screamed into the crowd. The shrill cry that echoed out of Y/n's mouth as she ran toward the locker room sent a few others following in her wake.

Y/n skidded around the corner of the locker room, John stood outside losing his mind at the sight, Finn doubled over throwing up. Arthur's body lie slumped in the corner of the room. Someone had already closed his eyes, his arms limp splayed out at his sides. That gorgeous mop of hair ruffled and covered in blood. Specks of blood mingled amongst the freckles on his cheeks. The sight of Arthur's body was more than Y/n could handle. All composure, the ability to hold herself gone as she fell to her knees beside him.

"You promised me," the wretched broken sob that left her lips. "You promised me you weren't going anywhere." 

As if the situation couldn't get any worse, her eyes landed on the piano wire garrote left on the other side of his body. A snarling growl reverberated in her throat. The message was loud and clear, Changretta was playing by old school rules. The weapon of choice used by made men from long ago like her Great-Grandfather in his hay day during prohibition in Chicago running liqueur to those who could afford. Those that got in his way were iced similarly to Arthur. 

The snarling growl turned to a blood-curdling scream echoing off the tiled walls. Her fist pounding into the floor, smashing her knuckles. Her blood mixing with Arthur's with each hit. John lifted her off the ground trying to pull her away from Arthur's body. All John was trying to do was ease her pain, nothing good could come from sitting beside Arthur now. He didn't want that image of him to get stuck in her mind, but it was too late.

Y/n thrashed and kicked at John trying to get him to let her go. She was spitting rage and fury, her state made Arthur's death all the worse. Nothing that came out of the mouth of anyone made it through to Y/n. Not a single word Pol or Ada offered in sorrow was heard. Y/n only saw the man she loved dead on the floor. The very man that promised to be her whole world, promised he'd never leave, that he'd always be there, but he was dead and lifeless in a crumpled mess.

She scratched and kicked at John managing to get him to loosen his hold. Y/n was lurching forward to go back to Arthur's body. She needed to hold his face, clean the blood off his freckles. All she wanted was to lightly bump his forehead to hers like they'd done so often one last time. It was a stupid thing, the forehead bump, but something about it was better than a hug, better than a kiss. It was a secret comfort shared between the two of them, a way to say everything was alright without words. 

Tommy's arms wrapped around her, trapping her between his as he pulled her away. He tugged her struggling form into the hallway and away from Arthur. He could feel the tension in her body, but as soon Arthur was out of view, he thought she was easing. Thought she was trying to hold onto him for support like she needed to be held. His grip lessened and it gave Y/n the chance to get out of his touch. She spun on her heels facing Tommy, pulled her arm back and nailed Tommy with a sucker punch straight in his nose. The blinding pain from the hit sent him stumbling back into the wall.

"This is YOUR FAULT!" Y/n seethed between clenched teeth. The others watching the exchange carefully. "Arthur, Changretta, Sabini, the Irish, the Russians. EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT!! You're a curse on your family Thomas Shelby!"

"Y/n, calm down," Tommy spoke roughly holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose.

"Changretta will die and I don't care how public it is anymore and you... stay the fuck out of my way and sleep with one eye open." Y/n's eyes squinted and twitched in a slight madness.

"Are you threatening Tommy?" John spoke up from behind Y/n.

"Warning. Whatever deal you made took Arthur away from me and I will NEVER forgive that." Y/n refused to look at any of them as she left the arena.


	11. Chapter 11

Y/n was gone by the time Tommy had made it home. None of her items left in the bedroom she slept in or in Arthur’s. Not a trace of her anywhere except the room next door she used as a media hub. The computers and monitors smashed to pieces, towers were in shards on the carpeted floor. The corkboards around the room devoid of all photos and her handwritten information. None of the staff had seen her come back, but they sure as hell heard her leave. She'd stolen one of Tommy's cars on her way out. 

Two weeks had gone by, and not a single Blinder or informant had seen her, only the aftermath left in her wake. Changretta had gone back to Italy with his tail between his legs after her stunt with the computer virus. Too many agencies still out looking for him, but he kept sending forces to Birmingham and surrounding areas looking for her. Y/n made sure their bodies were left in the open. 

The local authorities were starting to think there was a serial killer on the loose targeting gang members. At first, it was a body here and there, but a few days passed before mounds of them began to appear. The most brazen find that the authorities had been called to was outside of a pharmacy Luca had taken by force. The bodies of Changretta's men laid out carefully on the street spelling out 'Luca' and a smiley face. 

Y/n was mercilessly taking out everything that Changretta threw her way, not even her father attempted to reign her in. Luca’s numbers even in Italy were dwindling, no member of his family would step up and help him anymore in his craze. He was left hiring out trained killers and the like. Word traveled far and wide of what she was doing. She was sending a message to Luca that she was coming for him and nothing would stop her. 

Y/n stood far away from the others refusing to look at or converse with any of them. That smiling face that they had all gotten used to no longer existed. She was a shell, no longer caring if she lived or died so long as she got to Luca Changretta first. She stood solemnly watching as Johnny Dogs walked horses into the field attached to an old school Gypsy caravan.

Intricate carvings and paintings all over the wood paneling, replicas of Arthur’s hidden talent. The windows were fitted with stain glass, colored shards in no specific pattern except bursts of color. She could hardly make out the shape inside, nor could she think about Arthur's body laying inside. Arthur never wanted to buried, a morbid little fact she knew from a night they spent in the bathtub together. 

A relaxing bath turned oddly in-depth by random questions about the future and the past. Y/n remembered how quiet he'd gotten before the thought escaped his mouth. He feared it, being buried. Arthur said he had nightmares that he'd wake up inside the coffin with no choice but to try and claw his way out. He'd struggle to break through the coffin when soft dirt would fill in all around him and suffocate him before he could get out. 

With his head resting atop hers, his arms tangled around her in the warm water. He asked her to promise if anything happened to him, no matter what his family wanted no burial. He'd always been drawn to Viking funerals, though fire by ship wasn't practical nor easy to accomplish in England, he thought a funeral pyre would be the way to go. 

Y/n watched the horses trot away after being detached from the caravan. Blinked numbly seeing the wood logs thrown beneath the caravan and finally the lit torch being tossed inside. The fire crackled as it made its way through the caravan. She was holding herself together fairly well until the fire raged and the snapping sounds of its destruction started. 

SNAP! She felt her knees begin to buckle and took a deep breath trying to steady herself. 

SNAP! The sound was almost deafening, sounding like bones being broken. 

SNAP! Y/n gulped back the sob not wanting to let it out. 

SNAP! SNAP! The fire illuminated the figure of his body inside. 

SNAP! She dropped to her knees in a silent sob, tears streaming down her cheeks and littering the grass. Y/n couldn't look away as the caravan slowly crumbled, ashes and chunks of wood falling to the ground. 

Ada and Pol watched her from afar, their hearts broken over Arthur but slowly shattered seeing the torment Y/n was suffering in alone. Each woman tried making their way toward Y/n to hold her, comfort her, assure her that they were there for her, but Tommy held them back. He wouldn't let them approach her. 

"You're a right selfish git you know that?" Ada shook her head in disbelief. "How can you be so uncaring?"

"I hope you know what you're doing Tommy because we can't afford to go through a war with the Capones." Pol glared venomously at Tommy while lighting her cigarette. 

Tommy heard what they were saying to him, but it wasn't computing inside his head. He was so focused on Y/n, studying her. The pure and raw emotion rolling off her shattered all the doubts he had about her. The thoughts that she was conning them all so her father could take them over. The doubts that she didn't genuinely love Arthur vanished seeing how tortured she was watching the caravan turn to ash.

"She honestly loved him," Tommy whispered showing little emotion in his face except for his eyes. They betrayed him, showed regret and remorse in them. "It wasn't just some act, was it?"

"Of course she does... did," Pol corrected herself though the perturbed look towards Tommy held strong. "It was like watching two lost souls finding each other in the darkness. They needed each other Thomas and now... I wouldn't want to be at the end of that fury. She's got nothing to keep her from being reckless now."

"Tommy, whatever you did, it destroyed that poor girl down her core. You know how Arthur was, he didn't open up to anyone but with Y/n it was like he was alive again. Like he was a young lad before the world tore him apart." Ada couldn't help but look toward Tommy with disgust.

It was the white flag waving on the edge of the field that caught Tommy's attention. The older woman dressed all in black slowly crossing the field waving the flag in a sign of truce the closer she got to the large group of people. Eyes had become focused on her instead of the burning rubble of the caravan. A small group of people surrounded Tommy as he met the Changretta Matriarch.

"There's been enough bloodshed, Arthur's death makes it even." The Matriarch spoke with a flat tone.

She tried to keep her face emotionless being so close to the man that had roughed up her son and killed her husband, but her eyes. Those eyes burned with a rage that all Blinders knew too well. A smug grin crept over her mouth seeing the burning mass behind Tommy and his family. 

Her head tilted looking behind Tommy trying to memorize all the people there mourning to target at a later. All that smugness and confidence dissolved the moment she noticed Y/n. Tommy could see, hell he could feel the fear wafting off the Matriarch eyeballing Y/n. A visible shiver swept through her as her eyes widened.

"Do you speak for her?" The Matriarch nodded toward Y/n. 

"No, she speaks for herself," Tommy replied with a faint smile curled on the edge of his mouth.

"Why... why is she here then?" Her words drenched in fear. Whatever she'd planned before coming here now seemed to change.

"Seems your son has taken two people in her life that she loved dearly." Tommy inhaled deeply on his cigarette. "You'll have your truce long enough for a meeting in three days at my distillery, but I am not, nor will I be responsible for Y/n. Your son started that battle, you're on your own with that one."


	12. Chapter 12

Luca Changretta stood with a handful of men with rifles held in their hands behind him. The only thing between him, Tommy and the other Shelby's and Pol was a large wooden table. The sampling table, a heavy ancient table the brewers used when testing the color and composition of the spirits made in the distillery. The tension was high, everyone on high alert. The situation wasn't looking like it would go in Tommy's favor.

"My lawyers drew up these papers, nice and legal like." Luca grinned menacingly as he tossed a stack of papers on the table. "You sign all your businesses over to me and we'll call it even. I'll even let you keep your garish homes."

"And if I don't?" Tommy pursed his lips in a thin line.

"Then you'll be the last one alive and watch as everything and everyone you love burns," Luca laughed. "You started this shit by beating my brother, then your piece of shit druggie brother went and shot my father."

Shots rang out as three men behind Changretta dropped to the ground, the others didn't move, not even a twitch. Y/n made her presence known circling the table, eyeing both sides equally. John and the others had drawn their weapons, now steadied themselves and holstered them. Y/n shifted through the papers on the table without a word before she spoke.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I late?" She jumped up and sat on the edge of the table, kicking her feet like a child and laid her gun in her lap.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Luca hissed enraged, turning back toward his remaining men. "I saw you shot last night."

"Yeah see me and the Devil have an arrangement. He minds his own fucking business and I do what the hell I want." Y/n cocked her head to the side grinning at Luca.

"You're a mouthy little bitch just like your slut of a sister," Changretta thought he could touch a nerve, but Y/n didn't take the bait as he'd hoped.

"Speaking of Cecilia," Y/n smiled with an eerie glow. "She says hi and almost and I stress the almost bit, feels bad for your impending fate."

Luca Changretta signaled to the men behind him to shoot, but none of them moved. They didn't even look at him. He yelled and screamed at them, but nothing more than an eye roll was given by those men. Luca turned back toward Y/n and her smiling face. It pissed him off more than anything, the fact that she wasn't afraid of him. He got up in her face, so close she could smell the coffee on his breath. 

"I'll fucking kill you and then that poor excuse of a father. Chicago will be mine." Luca glared at her while running a finger over her cheek. Sneering an idea struck. "Maybe, I'll just take you instead. You've got more fight in you than your sister. I bet that piece of shit English druggie didn't satisfy you."

Y/n had her gun from her lap and pressed against his temple before he could even blink. The sheer thought of knowing Arthur was her pressure point, her weakness made him grin. She could hear the steps of the Shelby's and Pol behind her. Changretta shot them a glance and shook his head.

"There's that feistiness I want. I'm going to enjoy fucking that rebellion out of you." His smug voice and wild claims only fueled her anger.

"You took pieces of my heart away from me and you'll pay for that," Y/n cringed when his fingers glided over her skin again.

Luca was about to retort some smart ass remark when a door to the distillery room opened with a bang. Y/n couldn't see who was behind her, but whoever it was made Luca flinch. Two gunshots rang out in the room. Blood spattered over Y/n as Luca's body tumbled to the floor. Arthur raced across the room standing in front of her. His hands cradling her face, thumbs swiping away the blood on her cheeks.

"Here to usher me to the other side handsome?" Her voice faltered and her eyes rolled back. 

He didn't understand what she meant and gaped at her confused. Tommy and the others rushing to her side. It only took a moment for Arthur to understand feeling the wetness seeping into his leg that was pressed against hers. Looking down he saw the blood soaking through her shirt and dripping onto the table. Y/n only shot once, the other shot had been Changretta. 

Arthur was frantic and in a panic. He could hear the voice booming out from one of Changretta's men calling an ambulance. The other two set their weapons down and came lurching over pushing Arthur aside as they started to fuss around Y/n. One had pulled off his shirt using it to stop the bleeding in her abdomen, the other checking her pulse and her eyes. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Arthur yelled trying to shove the men away, but they wouldn't budge.

"Trying to save her life, we work for her now." The one pressing his shirt to her wound replied laying her flat on the table.

Arthur leaned over the table out of the way of the men brushing the hair out of Y/n's face. Tommy and the others scrambling trying to help any way they could. Arthur wouldn't leave his spot beside her head. Frantic kisses against her temple, a gentle bump of his forehead to hers. 

"You can't leave me, Love, I need you," his voice cracked filled with fear. “Y/n I need you.” 

It was all apart of Tommy's plan, faking Arthur’s death giving the others time to deal with Changretta. He knew Y/n would burn the world to the ground in his absence, but he never found out how bad it'd gotten until he made it back from America. He took the opportunity of his ‘death’ to take care of some business in the states while the others ended the war. 

The searing pain was all Y/n could feel. She'd been shot before but it never felt like this, but she'd done it. Luca Changretta was dead, her sister and Arthur avenged. She could go peacefully now. She could have sworn she saw Arthur's ghost ready to ferry her to the other side. Maybe if she was lucky enough, she could spend the afterlife with him. She wasn't so sure she was deserving of a happy ending though. Y/n had caused her fair share of pain. Maybe she wasn't meant for happiness since it kept getting taken away from her. 

"I thought it would be Cecilia," she mumbled in agony staring up at Arthur's face, so sure he was nothing more than a spirit. "But I'm glad it's you."

"It's me, Love," the cry stuck in his throat at the sound of her giving up. He tried to get her to understand he was real, that he was there. Leaning over he pressed his lips to hers in a strained kiss. "We're supposed to go somewhere warm Love, remember?" 

Y/n winced in pain as her breathing slowed. Arthur watched in horror as her eyes rolled back and closed to the sound of sirens in the distance.


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur stood across the room facing a burly man seated behind a large dark wood desk. He was used to expressionless faces growing up with Tommy. Stoic eyes following Arthur's every move. A thick cigar sat in the burly man's mouth, his jaw flexing and moving as he chewed on the end of the unlit cigar. There had never been a time in Arthur's life where he'd felt more judged. 

"I came here to ask for your blessing, but your silence tells me I won't get it." Arthur sighed and shook his head annoyed. 

It'd been two days since he asked Alphonse Capone permission to marry his daughter. Two days waiting in a hotel room to be summoned back to his office for his answer. His mind was racing not for the answer he may or may not get, but what trouble Y/n was getting into. He had his fingers crossed she wouldn't go overboard before he got back. He hated Tommy's plan with a passion. 

Laying there on the floor pretending to be dead hearing her scream. Hearing Y/n cry and wail. Losing herself in madness and grief. He fought against everything inside him telling him to get up and forced himself to stay on that floor. He wanted to jump up and pull her into him, explain, tell her how sorry he was, but it had to be believable. It broke him listening to her cry, the agony, and torment in her voice. The heartbreak he knew she wore on her face, but he knew Changretta would take the bait and it would end. She'd forgive him for the deception he hoped.

"You've got a lot of balls," Alphonse nodded at Arthur. "You show up in my town, come waltzing up to my office unannounced expecting to see me just because you're a fuckin' Shelby and then you have the fucking nerve to ask for my permission to marry my only child?"

There was a staredown between Alphonse and Arthur, neither blinked, but Alphonse didn't know as much about Arthur as he thought. Somewhere into the stare down Alphonse smiled. He saw so much of his little Y/n in Arthur. The brazen attitude, the stubbornness, the inability to take no for an answer. He definitely appreciated the nerve it took for Arthur to come to him like that. He didn't show any fear either. Alphonse had gotten too used to people cowering at the sight of him, giving in to whatever he wanted just because of who he was.

"I came to ask permission, yes, but whether I get it or not, I'm still going to marry her." Arthur wasn't going to back down. 

Y/n wanted freedom and peace as much as he did. She didn't want to be trapped under the weight of family pressure anymore. Y/n never wanted the life of a fighter, never wanted to be the brute force of her father's business. Y/n was a dreamer and reader, a lover of walks in nature and animals big and small. He'd never forget how her face lit up seeing the stars at night, wrapping herself around Arthur for warmth and staring up at them in wonder. Though her feet were planted firmly on the ground, her head was up in the stars as much as Arthur's was. 

Arthur wanted her to know comfort and laziness. He wanted her to be able to sleep in for as long as she wanted, to never have to jump up at the moment's notice to do some asinine task. Y/n deserved to laugh and live as she wished. If she wanted to lounge in bed all day in pajamas then he'd lay beside her and hold her tight. Most of all he wanted her to feel as loved and as important as she made him feel.

"Like I said, you've got balls, but what makes you think you'll get back to England?" Alphonse set his cigar in his ashtray and stood from his seat. His towering stature at full height, he cracked his neck rolling it side to side crossing the room to pour himself a drink. "You're a dead man, who would know if you never came back?"

"You'd really do that to your daughter?" Arthur eyed Alphonse carefully trying to mask his anger.

"She thinks you're dead. It wasn't me that hurt her, you and that stupid plan of your brothers did that." Alphonse laughed gruffly handing Arthur a glass.

"It had to be believable and I regret it, but I'll let her bring it up every time she gets mad for the rest of my life because it's no less than I deserve." Alphonse could see the determination in Arthur, the honesty. "I love her and whatever answer you give me won't change that. I'll marry her. We'll retire somewhere in the countryside or some beach on a tropical island, but I will spend every ounce of energy I have loving that woman and treating her the way she should be."

Alphonse stood silent nodding his head listening to Arthur. The conviction in his words, the weight they carried. He knew he meant each word. Arthur Shelby wasn't the sort of man he'd had in mind for his only remaining child but damned if he couldn't see why she loved him. He'd make good on every promise and that's why Alphonse had gone down to the bank shortly after his first meeting with Arthur and found himself searching through a safety deposit box he hadn't touched in years. 

"Do you have a lot of money, Mr. Shelby?" Alphonse swirled his drink in his hand already knowing the answer. He knew everything about Arthur, he'd sent out an informant to watch him and gather intel the moment he heard his daughter's voice talking about him over the phone her second night in Birmingham.

"Not as much as I used to, but enough to be comfortable I suppose," Arthur answered with a raised brow, surely this wasn't going to come down to money.

"How can you give her everything she deserves if you have no money? That's my daughter we're talking about." Alphonse smirked, his hand in his jacket pocket feeling the item he'd taken from the bank.

"If you knew your daughter half as well as you think you do than you'd know the most expensive thing she ever wants is specific chocolate only made in England and an endless supply of books. I have money enough to keep her in all the books she could read and all the chocolate she can stand. Other than that the only thing she ever desired was love without an ulterior motive and that I gave willingly from the first moment I saw her and will keep giving for as long as she wants it."

Arthur felt as if he'd be getting the third degree the way Alphonse was studying him. Instead, Alphonse put his drink down on his desk and stood before Arthur with a smile. Arthur considered himself tall, but compared to Alphonse he felt dwarfed in both height and muscle. He wasn't prepared for the clasp on the back or the hearty laugh that echoed out of Alphonse. 

"Good," Alphonse smiled with a relax ease for the first time since Arthur set foot in his office. "I never wanted this life for her, but she dove into it so Markus could follow his dream when I refused to let him. She took up the mantle when Cecilia left. After Changretta murdered her I couldn't muster the courage to get out of bed and my precious girl took over the family business. Y/n should have been a writer or a poet, not a fighter but her life seemed to perch precariously on the edge between two worlds. Always between light and dark." Alphonse only flashed a tight-lipped smile and slid a box into Arthur's hand.

********

The sterile smell and beeping machines filled Y/n's senses before she even opened her eyes. Groaning as she moved on the thin mattress, covered in starched sheets and itchy blankets. The pillow beneath her head was thin and useless. She let out a sigh and licked her lips. Her mouth felt as if it was filled with cotton and her throat was dry. The bed wasn't comfortable but even still she was tired. Trying to get comfortable to fall back asleep she heard the cough. The tiny scratch of chair legs on the linoleum floor beside her. 

"How long have I been out?" She asked groggily expecting it to be John or Finn or even Tommy himself. She wasn't prepared to hear that familiar deep gruff voice.

"Bout four days Love." The chair squeaked closer to her bed, but she couldn't open her eyes.

"Now I know I'm dead," Y/n croaked softly into the unknown. "Is this my punishment, hearing his voice? Let me guess, the second I open my eyes to see him, he'll disappear?"

"You're not dead my Love, and I am very much alive." He placed his hand on hers, thumb sweeping over the back of it. 

She wouldn't open her eyes, kept them clamped shut. Arthur smiled seeing her defiance, her refusal to let him go. He helped her sit up and poured a glass of water.

"You need some water Love." Even then she refused to open her eyes. He held the cup to her lips slowly letting the water trickle inside. Arthur watched her eyes behind closed lids darting side to side. His hand wiping away the droplets of water that escaped.

"You promised me," her lips trembled as much as her fingers laced tightly through his.

"Tommy's plan Love, it had to be believable. All I can say is I'm sorry and I'll never stop being sorry for puttin' you through that."

"You're alive? I'm not dreaming?" The sweetness in her voice, the quiver of her lip left him reeling inside with guilt.

"I promise you I'm very very much alive and I will never leave your side again." Arthur leaned his forehead against hers placing a chaste kiss on her mouth.

Y/n's eyes fluttered open, blinking at the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. She stared up at the blank white ceiling still afraid to look at him. Images of his bloodied body lying in that locker room etched in her brain. The lifeless body of Arthur left and tossed aside in a corner like he was nothing more than a piece of trash. The blood matted in his hair and beard, covering those glorious freckles on his cheeks. A small part of her was terrified if she looked his way that's exactly what she'd see, that she was in hell doomed to see his body for eternity.

When she turned her eyes toward Arthur she was more than surprised. Gone were the long locks of hair. It was shorter but as gorgeous as that man could make it, it was unfair. Fluffy and soft from his hands running through it one too many times. His beard was trimmed clean and close. If Y/n hadn't known any better, he looked like a well put together professional. Those glinting raging full of emotion ocean eyes blinking back at her, he couldn't help but smile. 

"Still as handsome as ever," she chuckled seeing him becoming misty-eyed. "I'm going to knock your brother the fuck out for that plan." The comment had Arthur slapping his knee laughing.

"Rightly so Love, but what about me?" He sat down on her bed swallowing hard afraid to hear she hated him. She smiled and laughed but it could have been nothing more than a defense mechanism covering for far worse than he could handle.

Y/n struggled to fully sit up inching herself closer to Arthur. He watched her closely in case she needed help, but he was afraid to touch her. Afraid she wouldn't want him after all of that deception. Arthur suddenly felt it too much to look her in the eyes like it was a forbidden act he was no longer allowed to do. His head lowered staring at the pattern on her hospital blanket. 

She cradled his face in her hands, her thumbs tracing over his ridiculously adorable freckles. He closed his eyes letting out a deep breath feeling her forehead pressing firmly on his. The faint touch of her lips. Soft, warm and somehow as sweet as honey. He felt the droplets of her tears against his cheek and the tremble in her fingers. Her hands left his face tucking under his arms and wrapping around his torso. She slid her head to rest in the crook of his neck. 

They sat that way for ages, clutching onto each other as if the world itself was ending. Y/n let herself go at his touch, the feel of his comfort. She cried until there was nothing left, but still, they held on. Arthur rambled and mumbled how sorry he was until he was hoarse. Pleaded for forgiveness, but Y/n only shook her head staring at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Love is the ultimate forgiveness isn't it?" she spoke through quivering lips tucking her head under his chin.

Arthur laid them both back on the tiny hospital bed tucking her safely in front of him, his arms holding her close. He felt her body melt and curve into his, her fingertips swirling circles over his knuckles. Arthur pulled out the tiny box given to him by her father and slid the ring on her finger. The metal warm from its time in his pocket spent by her bedside the last four days. Y/n glanced down and muttered a soft whimper.

"How... where did you get that?" The fingers of her free hand twirled the vintage Art Deco ring around her finger, her mother's ring. 

"Apparently I'm not such a terrible old sod," Arthur chuckled kissing her shoulder. "My 'death' wasn't sittin' in some hotel, I uh... went to Chicago." He felt her tense for a moment under his hold. "I managed to make your father crack a smile if that means anything Love."

"It does indeed," she smiled. She hadn't seen the ring since her mother passed away and her father locked up everything that reminded him of her. The fact that it was now on her finger meant more than Arthur would ever know. Her father was letting her go to live her life the way she wanted. She didn't need his protection anymore, not when she had Arthur.

"Marry me?" Asking her that question was the most nerve-wracking thing he'd ever done in his life. The guilt over his faked death sending doubts throughout him. Y/n could still tell him no, say that she needed time to think or worse that she couldn't love him the same anymore. 

"Y/n Shelby has a nice ring to it," she whispered smiling. Arthur sat up wide-eyed staring down at her, all that doubt and anxiety disappeared.

"It-it doesn't have to be Shelby, Arthur Shelby's dead. Tommy gave me an out to go off and start a new life."

"No," Y/n shook her head with a tiny smile. "Shelby is perfect."

********  
The wedding was small and held on Tommy's land at dusk, officiated by Tommy himself. There was nothing fancy about it, just the family. Ada struggled to contain herself and had a feast and all the alcohol the boys could handle. Neither Y/n nor Arthur cared for fancy wedding fare in the first place, quiet and surrounded by family was good enough. Y/n, however, did humor Pol's request and wore a simple white summer dress. Arthur couldn't stop smiling at Y/n. 

All the words Tommy spouted went in one ear and out the other while Arthur watched his future standing in front of him with her hands trembling excitedly in his. That tiny shy smile of hers, the glint in her eyes offset by the rosiness in her cheeks. Arthur leaned his head down resting his forehead to hers. Y/n let out a sigh and mouthed 'thank you'. It felt more than right at that moment, the little nervous jitters flowing through both of them. 

"I now pronounce you a Shelby. Kiss his ugly mug and let's drink." Tommy laughed smiling at his brother, clapping him on the back. Arthur dipped her low in his arms grinning widely. He kissed her soft and slow pulling her upright.  
"Every star," he whispered pointing upward, eyes locked on hers with tiny a smile remembering the first night he met her in the Garrison, "is a reminder of how tiny we are and how beautiful it is that we exist in this moment together. " 

**********  
"We've got another one," Pol smiled leaning in the doorway of Tommy's office. His head buried in the mountain of paperwork on his desk.

"Oh," he set the stack of papers down and looked up with interest. "Where are they this time?" He asked with a smile.

"Bali." Pol grinned skimming over the postcard before handing it to Tommy. 

"You know, I'm not sure they're coming home anytime soon." She chuckled to herself while lighting a cigarette.

"Can you blame them?" Tommy retorted with a small smile reading the postcard.

It's fuckin' hot, but enjoying every moment of it. My wife has yet to wear anything other than a swimsuit, not complainin'. Don't exactly miss you lot, but it's almost unnatural not having seen it rain in months. -A.S.

"Sounds like they're following summer doesn't it?" Pol laughed seeing the tiny bit of envy on Tommy's face.

"Indeed, but he's happy and that's all that matters." Tommy grinned setting the postcard in his desk drawer with the pile of others. From Maui to Bermuda, Australia, and a dozen other places. Tommy chuckled at the thought of pasty pale Arthur and all his freckles laid out on a beach somewhere.

**********

Arthur stood behind Y/n, arms wrapped around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder. They were waist-deep in turquoise colored water watching the sunset. Around the world, they traveled from one sunny locale to another, each beach different from the last. Sampling the foods and the sights, but always coming back to the beaches. 

“As your husband, I think it’s bout time I ask whose been paying for this whole extravagant honeymoon Love?” She could tell but the tone though gruff Arthur was smiling. His fingers skimming across her skin making her shiver.

“Right well about that,” she giggled turning to face him, not a hint of guilt anywhere. “You remember that Lil virus pinning Changretta for the theft from Buckingham Palace?”

“Mhm,” he pursed his lips trying to hide a grin. The thought had crossed his mind before.

“It may have ‘seemed’ that Luca had that money but in reality... I did, well we do.” Y/n scrunched her face into a mixture of smugness and playfulness resting her palms on his chest.

“Married myself a sneaky Lil woman now didn’t I?” Y/n grinned and smacked his shoulder, inching her face closer to his.

“You love it and you know,” she hummed teasingly. “When do you wanna go home?”

Arthur leaned his forehead to hers and smiled.

“Anywhere you are is home Love.”


End file.
